


Vir Banal'ras ena enasalin

by GreyMahariel



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Elven Glory, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friendship, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Secrets, Smut, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2018-12-19 09:24:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 132,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11894781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMahariel/pseuds/GreyMahariel
Summary: Mahariel has been called a lot of things. She never expected Herald to be one of them. What does an assassin when the whole world start watching?The story of the Inquisition, led by the elven Inquisitor Mahariel, an Herald with a lot of secrets - and a LI with just as much."I will work with the Dalish, but only if they help all our people. Pass that on to the next Clan you meet." Briala to Mihris.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a little - or not - Solavellan fanfic' I need to drive out of my system.   
> Canon divergences.  
> Rated Explicit for language and smut later. I'll let you know in the beginning of the chapters, you won't be caught off-guard!  
> One less thing: my deepest apologies for any english mistake. I'm no native, so, feel free to let me know if I butchered gloriously the language at any point.  
> Dragon Age belongs to Bioware.  
> I update on friday night -CET GMT- I'm just putting enough to begin with and to match the content on fanfiction.net  
> I hope you enjoy it! Please, review, comment, let me know your thoughts!

 

* * *

 

 

She entered the temple under stealth, hugging the walls. She could not risk anyone to see her. And the humans were not joking with their security on this one. Between the Tal-Vashoth, the spies…The Temple of Sacred Ashes was way more crowded than she had thought. She watched the mercenary unit passing in front of her. She hesitated, her hand on the hilt of a dagger. She was there to spy, the Ben-Hassrath could take care of their Tal-Vashoth by themselves. Still, earning a favor from her current companions could be interesting…No. A dead unit of Qunari would hardly go unnoticed.

Her ears dragged her away from the main gathering. She had first ignored but the sound was persistent, and no one seemed to notice. Or they didn't care? Hum…Unlikely, her hearing was sharper than theirs, they just did not hear, obviously.

She had a bad feeling as she followed the sound. She kept her stealth but gave it less caution as she broke into a quick jog. These were shouts for help. From a woman. Alarmed, she sped up through the stairs.


	2. The Wrath of Haven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For additional translations, please check the end notes.

* * *

 

She opened her eyes with difficulties. She blinked several times to adjust to the weak light of the room. She felt a wetness under her bare back. She tilted her head up to look at the ground she was supine on. Her hand brushed the dark, wet cobblestone with disbelief.  _What the –_

Her thought got interrupted by the sight of her own hand. It was glowing. Glowing of an eerie green. Her eyes widened of awe as she examined her palm, split by the odd mark. She blinked again, barely noticing she was handcuffed.

She started when the door opened, letting a too bright light in. She covered her eyes with her hand and take it off as soon as she did, the weird mark tingling on her face…Magic? What kind of magic does  _that_ …? She looked at the people who entered at the same time as the sudden light. She only then noticed the four soldiers pointing their swords to her throat. Hopefully, the incomers seemed to be their cue to put them back in their sheath.

For what she could see of the form, there were two. Two women. The first one approached her with a frightening stance. She instinctively tried to back up when she saw the Chantry pattern on her armor. A Templar. Shit.

The woman did not stop and grabbed her shoulder fiercely.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." The second woman was looking at her with just as much loathing as the first. She shoved her backwards and began to walk menacingly around her. "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you."

The elf held her gaze with just as much strength as she processed her words, slowly. The Conclave. Yes, that she recalled. She was there to spy. But then…Everything was an awful blur. But she would not let see her own confusion to this damn chantry-folk. She took the barely implied accusation without shifting. The woman looked at her with disdain and grabbed her marked hand.

"Explain this."

She looked at the mark too and her thoughts rushed in her head. She finally decided herself on a slight north accent – the important part right now was no Dalish emphasis – before answering shortly with a firm voice.

"I can't."

"What do you mean  _you can't_?!" The anger was palpable, and even the second, calmer, woman came closer, examining her. If what the first one said was true, if the whole Conclave was destroyed…The elf had to admit their anger, even if ill-placed, was legitimate. She kept her voice strong and neutral.

"I don't know what  _that_  is, nor how it got there." She did not move when the templar grabbed with even more hatred and irritation her shoulders.

"YOU ARE LYING!" She held once more the brown eyes with her green-blue lagoon ones, considering quickly what she could do with handcuffs, no weapons and six armed-people in front of her. The second woman, at her surprise, forced the first to step back.

"We need her, Cassandra."

The elf suppressed a smirk. Good to know. No idea why, but  _that_  assured her survival for the next hour. Better than she hoped until now. And an hour was more than she needed to find an escape. She put on her best compassionate mask.

"I can't believe it…The whole Conclave, all those people…" That did not work as well as she hoped. Even not at all. Both women turned to her, the named Cassandra with barely less anger than before and the second with a stern face and an eyebrow very slightly raised in a  _Cut the act_  demonstration of disbelief.

"Do you remember what happened? How this began?"

She opened her mouth but shut it right away. No…Barely. This revelation confused her enough for it to show on her face as she spoke, more to herself than to them.

"I remember running… _Things_ were chasing me. And then…a woman?" The end sound pretty much like a question as she looked up to her audience. She suppressed a curse which almost crossed her lips in elvhen.  _Nope. They think you destroyed the Conclave and truth be told, you don't even know if you did. So, curse as you want but_ not _in elvhen, that would do no good._

"A woman?"

"She reached out to me. But then…"

She ended her sentence with a vague gesture, indicating her memories stopped there. And it was true. The women took few steps away and Cassandra, apparently a bit subsided, spoke up.

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift."

The red-haired nodded, not without a last suspicious look to their prisoner and took her leave. Cassandra walked back to her. For a moment, the elf was unsure if she was or not going to hit her – she obviously wanted to. But she simply freed the handcuffs from their tie on the ground. The elf stretched her neck and fixed the position of her antaam-saar, wincing a bit as she was unable to reach her back to take away the wetness. Hopefully, her war-paints were waterproof. Cassandra did not care about her comfort and dragged her outside by her handcuffs. Her voice was back to firm and neutral when she asked the woman.

"What  _did_  happen?"

"It…Will be easier to show you." She heard the slightest inflection of pain in the warrior voice and took silently note. Now that she had a clearest view, she doubted the templar part. From the Chantry, that was obvious but no, no templar…

Cassandra was looking suspiciously at her outfit as they went through a corridor of empty cells. Why they felt like putting their only prisoner in the last one was a good question. She suppressed once more a smirk, definitely happy to be wearing a Qunari light armor. Her nose wrinkled a bit. The unit of Ben-Hassrath she had been working with was probably as dead as the rest of the Conclave. Fenedhis. Well, not like they would have helped her. The whole point to work with a  _bas_  had been to not implicate Par Vollen if something went to shit. So, forget the Qunari. Good thing she had been here for more than one faction…But the Dalish weren't around, not more than Oran or Magister Eventus…Okay, so, no help for now. She decided to address the woman once more, feeling like a lucky guess could destabilize her – and she was still giving her weird look anyway.

"Something you want to ask… _Seeker_?" Cassandra barely flinched but she still noticed a slight surprise on her face. She composed herself before answering with no little amount of disdain.

" _What_  are you wearing?" The elf snorted.

"'Tis called an antaam-saar." This time Cassandra stopped, her hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to unsheathe.

" _You_  are with the Qun?!" She was not impressed and remained still, looking with condescendence to her sword. She gave her an arrogant smirk and answered with a slightly more Orlesian accent.

"If you wielded a darkspawn sword, would that make of you a darkspawn?"

The seeker's nose wrinkled and she let out an exasperate sound. She did not add anything but eyed her with even more confusion after that. Because of her word, the way she handled the threat or the change in her accent, she could not guess. Anyway, she wanted her unnerved and she got it. An unnerved foe does mistakes and, right now, mistakes and luck were what she needed.

She blinked as they reached the outside, the daylight reverberating on the snow blinding her for few seconds. The sky quickly drew her attention and her eyes widened with horror. In her peripheric vision, she could see that the seeker was not unpleased to see her insufferable condescendence leave her face. But she had other concerns. There was a hole in the sky. A. Freaking. Hole. In. The. Sky. How was that even possible?! And why…Why was it the same color as the damn thing on her hand?!

"We call it the Breach. It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion of the Conclave."

"An explosion can do  _that_?!"

"This one did. Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the World."

She was about to answer when a sharp pain stopped her. Coming from her hand, it choked her as a dagger in her lungs would. She fell on her knees, taken aback. She took her left hand instinctively in her right, hoping to somehow smoothen the pain. But she had always been a poor healer. Cassandra kneeled in front of her with the slightest sparkle of compassion in her eyes.

"Each time the Breach expand, your mark spreads. And it  _is_  killing you. It might be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time."

"And you think I did that? To myself?"

"Not intentionally. Something clearly went wrong."

"No kidding…"

She looked up at the Breach. Evanuris halani em…In the possibilities of things going wrong,  _that_  was something. She shook her head and looked back at her palm.  _I'm going to die anyway, might as well trying to save some souls before._  She glanced at the seeker and nodded with determination, her face grim. She was not in the mood to play the woman anymore

" _Meravas_." She paused "So, shall it be." added she, considering the lack of understanding in the seeker's gaze.

"Then…?" The features of Cassandra softened with hope.

"I'll do what I can. Whatever it takes."

She could guess the faintest curve on the edge of Cassandra's lips as she helped her up, a little bit less roughly than before.

They crossed the hamlet they were in – probably Haven, considering – and she figured quickly the only thing preventing the people to throw rocks on her was the presence of the seeker by her side. She was almost grateful to be with her captor. As they walked, Cassandra explained further the situation: the death of divine Justinia, of the leader of both mages and templars. The situation was bad. Awfully bad for the South. She could not help but feel a knot in her belly. She had spent most of her clan-life in Ferelden, and came back briefly after leaving. Knowing the country was yet again facing such disaster was painful, even for someone like her.

When they reached the doors of the town, Cassandra turned to her with her sword. This time, she instinctively stepped back a bit, surprised by her re-found hostility. She, actually, cut her handcuffs.

"There will be a trial. I can promise no more."

She nodded and discreetly scanned the area. She could actually flee. She was not sure what the seeker knew about her. Her guess was she ignored she was a mage or she would not have freed her hands. But, more than a mage, she was an arcane warrior – well, arcane  _rogue_  to be precise, considering her  _dirty_  fight. She could sneak out just like that with a fade-cloak, and, if the seeker tried to suppress her magic, she could still surprise her with her agility…Still, she was not convinced there was a point in fleeing. The… _thing_  on her hand was killing her anyway, and the Breach was threatening…likely all of Thedas. She started as Cassandra interrupted her thoughts.

"Come, it is not far."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach."

"This does not answer the where." Cassandra gave her an unreadable face.

"Not more than your answer answered my question earlier."

At the surprise of the seeker, the elf gave her what looked like an appreciative look with a lopsided smile. She replied with a humble bow and a thick Orlesian accent.

" _Touché._ "

Cassandra considered her few seconds, her interest growing. Who was this woman? Or  _what_  was she? Dressed as a Qunari agent with war-paint, the manners of an Orlesian bard…Whatever, Leliana will know soon enough. She took the lead with a quick pace and broke into a jog after the gates. She slowed down to indicate her to go first. She didn't want her to think she was not watching.

After less than half a mile, the elf fell on her knees with a muttered shout of pain. She choked again as the mark on her hand pulsed fiercely with glowing green. She looked at it with gritted teeth. That was more painful than before. And the damn thing did not seem to be on the mood to give a warning, just so she doesn't fall on her knees with blurry eyes as a little girl. She took graciously the hand offered by the Seeker. Cassandra help her up.

"The pulses are coming faster now." She composed her voice, not wanting the pain to show more than it had already.

"Indeed. Thank you, by the way." She glanced to her hand and mumbled with a bitter snort " _Festis bei umo canavarum._ Literally." The Seeker's eyes widened once more to the sudden use of Tevene.

"Who  _are_  you?"

"Is that really important right now?"

"I suppose you are right. Better discussed later." Cassandra admitted reluctantly. The elf smiled a very Grand-Game-kind-of-smile.

"If there is a later.  _Na via lerno victoria._  Let's go. Quickly. If we are to have a chance at this."

The seeker could only agree but remained surprise at how naturally she suddenly used  _we_. Her prisoner was apparently doomed to surprise her more than she wanted. They resumed their jog, discussing a bit more, Cassandra going on with her tale of what they knew happened. Considering their running state, the seeker could not examine the reactions on her face. For the few lines they had exchanged, she was, however, certain it would not have helped her much.

They reached another bridge. As they were on the middle, a blast from the Breach touched it and the structure collapsed, with them, on the frozen lake behind. The prisoner jumped on her feet as the same time as Cassandra, only to see a threatening shadow right in front of them.

"Stay behind me!"

The seeker did not let her protest as she charged the demon. The elf was about to lend a hand with a winter grasp when a second shadow raised between her and the seeker. She could take it without weapon but still she looked around quickly. Her eyes laid on a double-dagger resting on a crate nearby. As good as anything.

She took it in one hand and began to make it turn nimbly between her finger. She leaped and attacked the shadow from the rear. She buried one side of the blade in it and gave it a powerful spin. The shadow faded right away, without even a chance to reach its foe. She turned around to help Cassandra only to see her enemy falling as well. She shrugged and looked at her newfound weapon. She raised her eyes not without skepticism when the end of a blade came under her nose.

"Having second thoughts already, Seeker?" The woman seemed irritated by her obvious disregard of the threat she wielded to her face and grunted.

"Drop your weapon. Now." She shrugged again and handed the double-dagger to the Seeker.

"If you want. If I may give an advice however, sharpened, it would be valuable. You should keep it for later."

Cassandra's eyes widened with disbelief, not sure if it was for the hand-willingly-my-weapon-part or for the comment about the potential price of the thing. She shook her hand and sighed.

"Keep it. I cannot protect you." She pulled her sword back in her sheathe "And I cannot expect you to be defenseless. I should remember you came willingly."

The elf did not add a word but nodded her appreciation with what appeared like a genuine small smile. She kept herself from commenting she was only willing to disarm because she was not more defenseless with or without it. That was confirming the seeker didn't know she was a mage. Could not hurt to keep that for herself for now. Just in case. The woman handed her few healing potions, once more  _just in case_. They resumed their jog. Further, they encountered more demons. They were clearly becoming more numerous as they were getting close to the Temple. They were still a good bunch of miles and the number of foes here did not presage anything good for later. Still, for now, the combats were easy enough.

They sped up as the sounds of battle from above became louder. The elf leapt in the middle of the fight, ignoring as much as she could the frantic pulses in her left hand.  _I bet the weird glowing green thing right here is what she was calling a rift._  The pain was sharp but she could handle it. She put the double dagger in her other hand however, not trusting her left to not drop it without warning. As she landed, she took down a first shadow easily. She did not give much thoughts to the people around. The difference was easy: claws and fangs equal foe, the other, friends – for now. She spun around, her blades dancing. She felt too late a presence in her back but a bolt stopped the shadow from reaching her. She gave a small nod and a smirk to the dwarf responsible for saving her skin. She suddenly spotted an anger demon, ready to flank the bald elven mage. She did not think twice and, with a swift gesture of her wrist, she froze the demon. The said mage turned, a bit too obviously startled for her taste. She charged the frozen form with her blade and it exploded.

"Ma serannas, lethallan." The mage told her as she was now next to him. She nodded but added quickly.

"If asked,  _you_ froze it."

She had no time to answer the questioning look as a last shadow popped on her left side. This time, it was indeed the mage who froze it before her blades burst it. He quickly grabbed her left hand and forced the palm open towards the rift.

"Quickly, before more came through!"

Her mark suddenly glowed and she could discern wave of magic linking it to the rift. Weirdly, it was not painful. It was only an odd feeling. Very odd. Still, she looked at the bald elf startled and took back her hand as soon as the rift flashed closed, not really comfortable of the way he used so easily a magic thing on  _her_  hand. What, does the damn thing answered to the will of anyone?! She swallowed hard to keep her composure and prevent herself from yelling at him.

"What did you do?"

" _I_  did nothing." He gave a small superior smile. "The credit is  _yours_."

She raised an eyebrow at him, his obvious fake modesty, and the mark. She smiled with the same amount of superiority.

"Care to elaborate?" She cut herself before she let the  _flat-ear_  threatening to cross her lips out, the use of it way too dalish. Hopefully, war-paint were still covering her vallaslin…

"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark on your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake." He finished with no small self-contentment. "And it seems I was correct." Cassandra intervened.

"Meaning it could also close the Breach itself."

"Possibly." He turned back to the elf. She noticed the genuine curving threatening his lips as he added "it seems you hold the key to our salvation." She took note silently  _So, smiling with self-sufficiency is alright but genuinely is not, flat-ear? Interesting._ The dwarf, until then aside, spoke up.

"Good to know! Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." He came closer and she turned to face him "Varric Tethras: Rogue, Storyteller and occasionally unwelcomed tag-along." He winked to Cassandra on the last part. The Seeker wrinkled her nose with a disgusted grunt. The elf smirked and crossed her arms, looking from the dwarf to the Seeker before asking with no small amount of disbelief.

"So,  _you_  are with the Chantry, or…?" The bald elf laughed.

"Was  _that_ a serious question?" She looked back at him with a lopsided smile.

"I had to ask,  _that_  would have been  _sublime_. Picture it: Varric Tethras, best friend of the fabled Champion of Kirkwall and famous author of our age, has been ordained." The elf nodded with a look saying  _Granted_ , the Seeker rolled her eyes and the dwarf laughed.

"I see my reputation reached…" He looked at her from head to toe, gathering, as the seeker before, contradictory information. He finally waved the thought "wherever you come from. Technically I'm a prisoner, just like you." She bowed with a smirk, taking back a thick Orlesian accent.

"Oh, isn't that charming? Maybe we can come up with a secret prisoner handshake, don't you think? Preferably, one including this  _remarquable_  crossbow you have there." He grinned, amused.

"Ah, isn't she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together. She'll be great company in the valley." Cassandra almost jumped.

"Absolutely not. Your help is appreciated Varric, but – "

"Have you been in the valley lately Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me." Cassandra held his gaze few seconds before spinning on her heels with a disgusted noise, defeated. The bald elf spoke again.

"My name is Solas if there are to be introduction." She suppressed a laughter, remaining impassive.  _Is that so? Wonder of wonder, why would it be?_ "I am pleased to see you still live."

"He means  _I kept that mark from killing you while you slept."_  She nodded her gratefulness as she pointed out, intrigued.

"You seem to know a great deal about it all." Cassandra spoke before he had a chance.

"Solas is an apostate, well-versed in such matters."

"Technically, all mages are now apostate, Cassandra." He gave the most imperceptible questioning glance to the other elf before resuming, addressing her "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless our origins." The elf smirked with an appreciative look.

"Practical. But, what about when  _this_ is over?" He sensed the hidden bit of answer to his questioning glances of earlier.

"One hopes those in power will remember who helped and who did not." Knowing she had her back towards both Cassandra and Varric, she let him see she respected his gamble but was not certain it was the wisest choice. His glance lingered, examining the untold answer, before he turned back to Cassandra "Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. I find it difficult to imagine anyone, mage or not, having such power."

She kept a perfectly neutral face, not letting show her gratefulness for his vague enough statement.

"Understood. We must get to the forward camp, quickly." Varric held a hand.

"Wait just a second Seeker, I'm thinking a name could be a nice idea, no? Just so I don't have to use a temporary bad nickname like  _elfy_  for the time-being." He kept his eyes on Cassandra but she turned to the elf. He laughed without mirth. "You did not even ask, did you?" He spun to the white-haired elf. She smiled and replied.

"If you must, you can call me El'las'in."

_The great secret._ Solas raised an eyebrow but did not comment. The dwarf and the Seeker, satisfied enough considering their lack of understanding of elvhen, took the lead with a quick pace. Waiting for them to be far enough, Solas kept his voice low.

"Inventive." She shrugged.

"Work well enough for most."

"Why the act, lethallan?" She raised an eyebrow of disbelief. Did she need to state the obvious?

"The humans think I kill their Divine and exploded their Conclave. Do you believe they would stop once  _I_ 'm dead?"

"They can just as well go after the elves as a generality. Would not be a first."

" _Maraas kata, bas saarebas. Rethsaam._ " He looked at her with quite the amount of disdain.

" _Are_  you from the Qun?" She smirked, satisfied. She spoke with her slight north accent, easier for her to maintain.

"You are the second asking me that today…I should be more careful, shouldn't I? What a disaster for  _my people_  it would be if  _this_  conclusion spread."

She did not wait for any answer and broke in a jog to catch up with Cassandra and Varric. Solas frowned but soon followed. Odd woman. He was not himself sure  _what_  she was at the end. Obviously, someone used to be undercover, considering her talent for swinging with the accent. She was or, at least, had been Dalish at some point, he could tell as much. She fought as a hunter. Was she trying to give Par Vollen as a scapegoat? It seemed as such, but, her knowledge and – for all he knew – satisfying accent in Qunlat made him think she could as well truly be from the Qun and just make sure it is understood as it is before the backfire fell on the Alienage…Considerations unlike a Qunari, but, if she was a convert, she could still have the will to protect her  _true_  People. Or, she wanted to blur the tracks, giving a bit of Orlesian, a bit of Qunari, maybe later a bit of other things…

He, however, had to give her one thing, her caution and want to protect the People were commendable. Now that he thought of it, he should have asked for a translation of her sentence in Qunlat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qunlat
> 
> Maraas kata: nothing is ended (here, more like decided)
> 
> Bas saarebas: mage (bas is to specify non-Qunari)
> 
> Rethsaam: we all protect
> 
> Tevene
> 
> Na via lerno victoria: only the livings know victory
> 
> Festis bei umo canavarum: you'll be the death of me
> 
> Elvhen (big thanks to FenxShiral for the wonderful Project Elvhen!)
> 
> Evanuris halani em: Creators help me
> 
> Orlesian
> 
> Remarquable: wonderful


	3. El'las'in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For additional translations, please check the end notes.

* * *

 

Sure thing, El'las'in knew how to fight, magic or not. Now that they were four of them, the road to the forward camp was quickly crossed. She knew six eyes were on her and she was acting with a lot of caution, not to give away her being a mage to Cassandra. She knew this part could not live long but she wanted to keep the  _fade-cloak-escape_  a possibility as long as she could. Her real precautions were about what she said.

Once in front of the gates, they ended up face to another rift. As she wielded her mark to close it, she fell its magic melting a bit more with her own, granting her more control about how to direct its magic. Even if it meant the thing was to become easier, she was not very happy with that. The more it stirred, the more likely she would not get rid of it. She shrugged on the inside. Whatever, she will not live long enough for it to become a problem, after all.

The soldiers opened the gates. The shouts of the red-haired called Leliana she met earlier with a man dressed with the Chantry robe welcomed them. The man looked at her with loathing.

"Ah, here  _they_ come." Leliana took a step forward.

"You made it. Chancellor Roderick, this is – "

"I know who  _she_ is. As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution."

The elf was already scanning the area. A bridge. Fine, so, put on stealth, jump and run, easy enough. She was about to turn and to conform to her newfound plan when she froze, seeing Cassandra coming in front of her, her hand on the hilt but her threatening stance turned to the Chancellor, not her.  _That_ was unexpected. She glanced to Varric and Solas. They were closer to her but, as much on a defensive stance, not in a  _preventing-the-prisoner-from-moving_ position. Cassandra snorted.

"Order me? You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!"

"And you are a thug. But a thug who, supposedly, serves the Chantry!"

"We serve the most Holy, Chancellor. As you well know." Intervened Leliana.

"Justinia is dead! We must elect – "

"You cannot make election if the world is swallowed by this, meanwhile."

The white-haired elf interrupted him with a powerful voice and a high chin, pointing her finger to the Breach. The Chancellor seemed speechless that she even dared. She smirked with a condescending slow shake of the head before adding.

" _Qalaba._ "

The cheeks of the man went on fire. She doubted anyone understood but it was not the point. The point was them acknowledging the language.

"Heretic!  _You_  caused  _this_!  _You_ killed everyone!"

"Pashaara, Kabethari! Ashkost kata!" She held the Chancellor's gaze before dismissing him with disregard to focus on Cassandra and Leliana. She had made her point, now she was more interested in what capable people had to say. He turned to Cassandra as well.

"Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless."

Considering they were apparently going to listen to this idiot yet again, she stopped listening them a bit and focused on the whispering words of Solas.

"Would you mind translating at some point?" She saw the nod of Varric and suppressed a laughter.

" _Qualaba_  designed a breed of incredibly stupid cows." She saw the smile on Varric's face and the curving threatening again Solas' composure. "For the rest, cannot say was as inventive. Basically,  _enough idiot, you are seeking your death._ " Solas snorted.

"The important point was not to be understood anyway, am I wrong?" She smirked but did not comment. The Seeker turned towards her.

"How do  _you_  think we shall proceed?"

She had kept a distant ear on the exchange and figured out what she meant. A new pulse of the rift interrupted her. Her palm burnt and choked her once more, stronger than before. She gritted her teeth to contain the cry of pain. She made a fist of her hand.

"F – asta vass." She corrected her swearing just in time so it mainly went unnoticed, even more with the sound of the Breach expanding. Solas tried to reach her hand but she held it. "I'm fine. M – y thanks, anyway." Damn it, she was losing her focus with the pain. She suppressed a wince and looked at Cassandra "I'm in for the mountain path. With luck, we could find your scouts and…I have the feeling quickest could be a good idea."

* * *

The pain was growing way too swiftly along with the impression of chocking. Still, she tried to keep the fastest pace she could. She just could  _not_  die before reaching this thing.

She was not putting as much effort as she had in her act. She had said enough Qunlat as it was, plus the antaam-saar, it would have to be enough. She had no time to play Orlesian or Tevinter on the road. Hopefully, they found the scouts easily enough – they sadly would have had no time to search for them if they didn't run into them. She had a hard time fighting, each pulsing in her hand loosening her hold on her dagger and being close to put her on her knees. She was hardly keeping up with the terror facing her. Its claws buried in her shoulder before she leapt. Cassandra and Solas rushed to her as she fell supine on the ground. The Seeker kept the terror busy as Solas help her up. He looked at the rift and told her.

"You can disrupt it, it will weaken the demons."

Not that she truly understood, her head spinning as it was, but still, she held her hand. Directing her palm to the rift, she found the magical manipulation of energies he meant. She disrupted it as he was helping her to stand. She felt the smooth sensation of protective magic around them. The terror, stunned, fell with the next blow of the Seeker's sword and Varric took down the last shadow. Seeing no more enemies, she held her hand once more and close it with a quick gesture. Solas, who was obviously about to reach her hand to do it, nodded appreciatively.

"You are becoming quite efficient at this." She snorted.

"The fight for dear life make of anyone a quick learner." He raised an eyebrow of disbelief.

"You are a difficult one, lethallan." Seeing Varric and Cassandra were talking to the scouts, she let the elvhen be heard for once.

"Ar dirth, lethallin. I've harthan."  _I know, lethallin. Heard that before._ He smirked to her use of elvhen.

"Ahn mar melin?"  _What is your name?_ She laughed slightly.

"Da re El'las'in."  _'Tis a big secret._ He snorted.

"You have been craving to use this line, haven't you?" She shrugged.

"The pun only works in elvhen. A pity."

She noticed Cassandra was pointing her and turned her attention to the scouts. Seeing the leader of them babbling some thanks, she waved it with a smirk.

"What can I say? Saving people and killing people – Er…Things – are what I'm best at." She noticed the rolling eyes of Cassandra, obviously declaring  _why are my prisoners like this?_  The scouts looked at her bewildered and Varric burst into laughter.

"I knew I was going to like you!" He gave her a tap in the back and she winced, grabbing her elbow "Oh, shit. Sorry, kid. Take that." He handed her a potion. She took it gladly and went back to seriousness.

"We should move on." Cassandra gave a last glance to the scout. They nodded they could make it to the camp without help.

"Agreed."

* * *

When they arrived to the temple, her best composure was hardly enough to keep the horror from her face. The calcinated bodies, frozen in a last cry, in their attempt to flee the blast. She shook her head slowly. Who could do that?  _What_  could do that?  _Falon'din enasal enaste._  She grabbed instinctively the pendant of her necklace. It had been a long time since she had kill someone without fulfilling a contract. But  _this_ …She would gladly stab the man…No, not a man, the  _beast_  able to cause that. She kneeled beside a corpse, tracing the fearful features of its last stand.

"Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra."  _Struggle is an illusion. The tide rises, the tide falls, but the sea is changeless. There is nothing to struggle against._ She did not pronounce the last sentence of the prayer.  _Anaan esaam Qun. Victory is in the Qun_. It did not make sense, not more to her than to these men and women. But she always liked this prayer, it had something beautiful in it.

She stood with determination. Grieve and mourn were for other.  _Lin'sul'lin_. Blood for blood. She was an assassin. Respecting the dead was important, but what matters was vengeance. It began with fixing this mess. She felt the hungry pulses menacing to swallow her hand. She could help with that part. Better than nothing. She shook her head. She was going to die. She would have liked to send a last message to her sisters…But she could not trust these people. She could not give them her name, the name of her former clan, of her sisters. It would bring doom on them and be utterly stupid. An assassin was meant to die as he lived: in the shadows.  _Meravas._  She smiled on the inside. She would never have convert, but she had learnt to see the comforting side of the Qun philosophy. She felt the knot in her belly come back. Weird that she ended up thinking of these Ben-Hassraths as her friends – sort of. But, well, three years working together can do that to people, obviously. She finally whispered the last sentence of the prayer for them.

She did not listen to Cassandra and Leliana, lost in her thoughts. When she finally realized eyes were turning to her, she dropped the hand she had holding her pendant and nodded, re-found fire in her eyes. It was unlike her not being focus on a mission. She was a professional.

A professional, yes. But a professional sure it was to be her last stand. It forced last minute introspection.

She started when the voice began resounded around them. She listened silently with a frown and hatred on her features. No doubt the damned responsible for this. She saw the pain in Cassandra's eyes when a new voice – the Divine's – appeared. She jumped first in the center of the Temple.

And her own voice appeared. She froze. And the vision emerged.

_A dark form, glowing red eyes, was magically holding the Divine. The door slammed and the white-haired elf appeared, daggers in hands, ready to attack. Her voice, firm and assured, resounded._

" _What's going on here?!" The Divine, alarmed, answered._

" _Run while you can, warm them!" The elf's eyes widened in awe, looking at the form and around. Horror, deception, lack of understanding. The shadowed beast did not let her time to process. Not even turning to her, barely irritation in its voice._

" _We have an intruder. Slaughter the elf."_

The rift flashed and stopped the vision, letting everyone around in pause. She looked where her face stood few seconds before. What was in front of her to provoke such clear emotional reaction?! She started, Cassandra suddenly in front of her.

"You  _were_ there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?" She held her gaze, her own eyes back to unreadable as she replied slowly with composed voice.

"I don't remember." Solas came to her rescue.

"Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place. This rift is not sealed, but it is closed. Albeit temporarily. I believe that, with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side."

"That means demons! Stand ready!" offered Cassandra as a practical sum-up to the soldiers above.

El'las'in waited for the soldiers and scouts to be in position. She felt the pulses quickening in her hand and gritted her teeth. Seeing everyone ready, she exchanged a nod with Cassandra. She took a deep breath and hardened her hold on the double-dagger. She held her mark high, directing it. Her eyes widened at the huge pride demon which jump through the rift. First thing it did was wiping her away fiercely. She flew on several meters before landing painfully. She could not help but swear.

"Su an'banal i'ma!"

The crack of her ribs had been loud and obvious to her ears. She reluctantly took a potion before jumping on her feet. Not like she was going to be of much help without it. Cassandra was already fighting the thing in fray. She disappeared in stealth to flank it when she remembered the little trick of earlier. She took few steps back and held her hand to disrupt the rift. The Pride Demon fell on his knees stunned. She charged then, her blade ready to sink through its weakened scales.

However, disrupting the rift apparently had its negative effects as shadows began to fall upon them. Considering the other appeared to handle the big one, she focused her effort on the shadows, taking advantage when they were away to disrupt the rift again.

After the third disrupting, she ended up surrounded by a terror and two shadows. She leapt around a first one and took it done easily when she looked towards the Pride Demon.

Solas was next to Cassandra and he was feeling his mana running low. The Seeker suddenly fell, wounded. He was dangerously close to the Demon, with no warrior anymore to keep the thing busy. His thoughts rushed, looking for a way out. Preferably, without letting the Seeker get crushed meanwhile. The demon was already tilting, its dark claws about to reach them both. The sensation of protective magic surrounded them in a second. The next, an ice pike buried itself deeply in the demon's throat. He heard the other elf's voice from the other side of the battle.

"This way, idiot!"

The demon took the bait and its head spun towards her. Its claws reached for the icicle and it roared with anger. It stood and began to walk towards her. Even if thankful, Solas looked at her with disbelief. A shadow and a terror were already on her. Hopefully, Leliana and Varric noticed her bad situation which suddenly grew worst with her provocation and their arrows and bolts lend a hand.

The white-haired smirked and decided quickly. Not like everyone did not see her using magic this time. Considering…She leapt back, summoning a fire mine where she stood few seconds before. It exploded in the face of the shadow and terror. With one more gesture, she put the arrows and bolts on fire as well, right before they reached their target. A ball of electricity brushed her left cheek as she moved in extremis.  _Fenedhis, it is pissed off_. She ignored the burning on her cheek for the time being and froze the legs of the Pride Demon. It stumbled and fell on its knees.

She was not far enough and its claws shut on her too soon for her to leap again. She chocked under the pressure on her rib cage. Cassandra, back on her feet, charged the demon as Solas, finding a bit of mana back, put a barrier around her. bolts and arrows sank deep in its hands and he loosened his grip enough for her to escape. She fell nimbly on the ground and stood right away despite her obvious injuries. With a war cry, she summoned a spiritual blade around her dagger and sink it deep enough through the demon for it to come out the other side. With a splash of dark blood spurting on her, it faded, its energy going back to the rift.

She did not lose time and instantly held her hand up to close the rift. Once it flashed closed, she nothing but collapsed on the ground. She could even feel her internal bleeding. She heard Leliana and Solas shouting for healers as Cassandra declared to no one in particular.

"She is a mage?!" Varric, apparently kneeling next to her, considering the closeness of his voice, replied with no small amount of irritation.

"No one said she was not Seeker, you just assumed. Not like you offered her a staff. What do you think of discussing that once the kid is alive?!"

She almost laughed but the exhaustion was too strong and she did not discern other words before everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Su an'banal i'ma: To the Void with you


	4. Herald

She opened her eyes and blinked several times. Her head was spinning, her vision blurry. She made a first attempt to sit, resting on her elbow and failed gloriously. Her left arm was numb. She blinked again and take her hand closer to her eyes. The glowing dazzled her. She grunted without femininity.  _Still there, hum?_ She looked around from her supine position. It looked like the inside of a cottage…Not at all the Fade… _Alive then._  She stretched her marked hand. Well, not half as painful as before and it did not choke her…The thing seemed more entwined with her own magic. Maybe the links stabilized the thing?

She finally straightened to a sitting position. She started to the row of something falling loudly on the ground. She looked up to the elven servant. She half understood her babblings. Her face dropped with disbelief when the young woman suddenly fell on her knees, in a praising position.  _By the Void, what the –_

"Lady Cassandra will want to know you are awake! She said  _at once_!"

"Wait a – "

" _At once!_ "

She looked the servant who literally flee the cottage. That was odd. But her thoughts turned quickly to the last part: Cassandra. Arrh, here it comes, the trial. Fenedhis.  _Would have been better to die earlier, finally._ Maybe there was still a way to flee…She tested her mana pool. The thing was incredibly low. She would never be able to maintain a fade cloak long enough. Well, let's go for an old-fashion stealth…

She examined her outfit. It had obviously been changed…Shit. The responsible for it had likely clean the Qunari war-paints covering her numerous tattoos. Damn, if he saw all of them…The vallaslin on her face, the Dalish one covering her back, the Antivan on the left side of her neck, the Qunari on her left shoulder and the Tevinter on her arm…Fuck. She touched her face. No, no war-paint anymore. She searched the crate the servant had left on the ground. Elfroot and other medical herbs…Not like it would help her right now.

She spotted her antaam-saar on a chair nearby. The leathers ropes were made of dragonling scales, dark red. The bands of fabric were black with some silver highlights. Well, they had seen the tattoos obviously, maybe better to act bold now and pray what she let visible would be convincing enough…She put it back on, happy to see they had be nice enough to fix the holes left by the claws of the demon.

She grabbed a little bowl and the dagger which was resting next to the armor. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she cut in her palm. She would have been happier with something else that blood to do the war-paint. She drew quickly a simple pattern on top of her Ghilan'nain vallaslin. She spurted what was left on the blood on her back and closed her eyes, focusing on the liquid to make it move properly with her magic. Once she was certain the  _war-paint_  was covering enough of the Dalish pattern, she looked at her left arm as she put a thick black leather bracelet on her wrist.

The Tevinter dragon winding from her biceps to the top of her hand, Par Vollen banner on her shoulder and the subtle double curved lines of the Crows on the side of her neck…Well, should confuse the reader enough.

She searched the antaam-saar for its hidden pocket and was happy to find the necklace of Kadan the Ben-Hassrath gave her a year ago. It was a miniature replica of the traditional dragon tooth, the Qunari considering her frame way too  _petite_  to carry a true tooth. Not like that was not true. The replica had been made of Ironbark. She had smiled genuinely at the obvious Dalish crafting of the pendant. Still, Dalish crafting or not, it was a Qunari item. She tied the silver chain together with the thick leather ropes around her shoulder, in such way it was falling on the Par Vollen banner as the decoration of a shoulder pad. Good. She gathered her long white hair in a fast braid she let fall on the opposite side, making sure all symbols as well as ear – and its very Tevinter black dragon earring winding around it – were visible on the left.

She hesitated between the rings in her pocket. She finally went for a thick signet ring of silver and onyx, without particular affiliation but definitely Tevinter-style, and put it on her ring finger. She had also what looked more like a finger-armor, forming a true claw on the finger wearing it, but it had the heraldry of Magister Eventus. No need to put a target on his back – for now. The last ring she had was a signet ring of the Crows but she did not want to be affiliated to the assassin guild too much, it would do her no good. Considering its environment, the tattoo of the Guild was not going to be the most acknowledged one anyway, and it could as well simply be Antivan.

She was still wearing her usual necklace of a bow and arrow. She considered it a second and put it under the collar of her outfit. She did not want to take it off and it was hidden enough. She could not see herself but she imagined easily enough what she looked like and smiled.  _That_  should unnerve more than one. And, at the very least, if she could not avoid being hang, she would do it with class  _and,_ without incriminating her People. She cleaned with a quick gesture the blood coaxing in her black eyebrows and stretched her arms and neck.  _Here we go_.

Her expression unreadable, she considered the sight offered in front of the cottage. Not what she was expecting. The whole town was bowing in front of her. More disturbing, the eyes of the whole town were on her…She was not going to be able to escape very far with that. Still, she looked up to the sky and frowned slightly. The Breach was still there, but it seemed…Calm, somehow. Not closed, but not threatening to swallow the world anymore. Well,  _that_  was something. Not enough, but something. She considered the situation. If it was not closed, she was probably still needed…Yes, that was likely, why would they have healed her otherwise? Healing her to send her to the gallows would be…Very Orlesian actually. No, she was not safe yet…But the world was not either. She sighed on the inside. She could not flee, not yet. She had to hear what the Seeker had to tell her…The woman did not handcuff her, nor send soldiers to escort her, nor made her Tranquil. She might still be prisoner but she was not treated like the enem –

The whispers around her interrupted her thoughts.  _Herald of - WHAT?! Are they talking about – Fen'harel halani em, what kind of mess am I into…_ She sped her pace to the Chantry, expecting it as the most likely place to find the Seeker. And the crowd seemed to direct her there. That had to count for something.

She crossed the main hall of the building with a determined stance. She heard the shouts behind the last door and recognized the voice of the Grand Chancellor.  _Qalaba is still here. Charming._  Not like she was afraid of a vain cleric of the shem religion. She nothing but slammed the door, startling the people inside. She wielded her best Grand-Game smile and bowed with exaggeration.

"My ladies.  _Kabethari_. What a delight to see you again." The provocation to the Chancellor, along with her appearance, worked instantly. He turned crimson with rage.

"Chain this heretic! I want her prepare to travel to the Capital for trial!" Cassandra dismissed with a gesture to the guards.

"Disregard that. And leave us."

The elf suppressed a smirk and crossed her arms with nonchalance. She leaned against the wall, letting the Seeker and Leliana dealing with Roderick, listening with interest. She intervened, addressing the Chancellor with a condescending lopsided smile.

"Still don't like me, basra? What a shame." He nothing but spat his answer.

"You killed the Divine! Do you think joking will do you any good?"

"She is no suspect."

The firm declaration of Cassandra drove back the attention of the cleric. The elf went back to her silence state for a time, laughing in the inside at the repeated outraged reaction of the cleric. However, when she heard Cassandra declaring she had been sent by the Maker, she almost chocked. She had heard a lot of thing in her life, but  _that_ …She composed her features and voice to comment with perfect neutrality.

"Of all things, I expected from this meeting, you managed to surprise me Seeker, I will give you that. If I may, what are you expecting from me  _pragmatically?_ "

She emphasized the last word to make clear she had no wish to hear her Andrastian bullshit. She was no chosen one, and even less chosen by a God who was not hers. Not open for debate. Cassandra considered her with mixed feelings, maybe her faith a bit hurt by her reaction. Leliana explained further the situation with the Breach. Cassandra finally took a thick leather-covered book with a Chantry logo on it. She listened carefully to the words of the Seeker as she nothing but chase the Chancellor from the room.  _The Inquisition reborn. Wow…This day…Week? Is becoming weirder within minute._  She exchanged an unreadable look with Leliana, who remained still and as impassible as her. She finally got to classify the redhead in the case  _Orlesian bard_ , even if it was not her main concern for the time-being.

Once the chancellor was out, Leliana spoke, tone neutral as always. Cassandra considered her points but her decision was obviously made. When she turned back to her, the elf moved from the wall she was leaning against to come closer to the seeker. She extended her left arm to brush the Chantry logo of the book. An innocent gesture giving a best sight of the tattoos and jewels on the said arm. She knew Cassandra and Leliana were studying them and waited few seconds to let them process the meanings before answering.

"You are asking  _me_  to take part in your holy war?"

"We are already at war. You are already involved. Its mark is upon you. As to either the war is holy or not, that depends on what we discover."

"Your  _Inquisition_  will remain Chantry-related." Cassandra snorted.

"Is that what you see?"

"The Chantry will take time to find a new Divine." took over Leliana. "And then it will wait for her direction."

"But  _we cannot_  wait. So many Grand clerics died at the Conclave. No, we are on our own. Maybe forever." The elf nodded and thought a bit. The mark was needed, restoring order was commendable…

"If you want to stop this mess…"

"It is our purpose." A sparkle of hope was seeable in Cassandra eyes as she spoke, her features slightly softened.

"Then, I'm ready to help." She paused "However,  _I_  shall not take part in anything looking like an Exalted March. As you might have guessed."

She finished with a small confident smile. Cassandra and Leliana both nodded with a glance to her arm. The Seeker stretched her hand to give her a handshake, purposefully giving her the left.  _How diplomatic._ She was about to take the said hand but stopped to add.

"You are aware  _my_ presence among your rank will not make it easy on you?" Cassandra's hand closed by itself the few inches separating their hands and looked into her bright lagoon eyes with determination.

" _Your_  presence is most needed. Whatever people will think."

The elf nodded, appreciative of the determination of the Seeker. When she released her hand, Leliana intervened, detached.

"What will the Qun think of their Ben-Hassrath working with a  _bas_  organization?" The elf gave her a smirk and answered with her Orlesian accent.

"You wished it would have been that simple, don't you, my Lady bard?" The redhead did not flinch but the elf knew she had seen right.

"One must try the easy road sometimes." She paused "However, maybe will you be nice enough to give me your name?" Cassandra turned to her.

"She gave us her name. Ellasin." Leliana kept her eyes on the white-hair.

"It is no name, Cassandra."

"Wonder of wonder, why do you think I cannot be named El'las'in while another one is named Pride?"

"Let's call it a hunch." She held her gaze and move to a Tevinter accent.

"A name has power and one can have many." She paused before a smirk took her lips. She knew who she was…A well-known and feared name in Orlais. "Or do you think otherwise,  _Soeur Rossignol?_ "  _Sister Nightingale._

Leliana's nose wrinkled for less than a full sec but she was satisfied to have break such perfect mask for as long. The eyes of the Nightingale glanced at her arm once more, clearly not that happy with her clairvoyance. Not like the redhead was not famous, but she did not like being outmatched and truth was, she had no idea who/what the elf was. The white-hair finished in Orlesian before turning to the door.

"Le jeu ne s'arrête jamais, Rossignol _."_ _The game never ends, Nightingale._

She heard the voices of Leliana and Cassandra whispering once she crossed the doorstep but went on. She had done her part here. She had other issues to attend. It might be good to do the right thing, still, she knew she was going into deep troubles. Gossips spread fast and, when they heard of the white-hair elf who survived the Conclave and apparently, had the lovely nickname of Herald of whatever shem prophet, a bunch of people were going to come after her. And, more than her, the Inquisition…It would be easier if someone else, with less enemies, had the damn mark.

Sensing how it was entwined with her magic, she, however, had more than little doubt about the possibility of transferring it. Shit. She called after a random person in the street. She winced a bit when the said person babbled some  _Herald_  and bowed but eventually ignored.

"Tell me Sere, when exactly did we stabilize the Breach?"

" _You_  saved us three days ago, Herald."  _Damn it, three days of black out! Half of Thedas probably knows too much already!_

"Thank you for the insight. Good day, Sere."

She did not give much attention to his answer and walk to the cottage she had been apparently assigned. She bit her lip. She was deep in this mess…No doubt Crows were already on their way. For the others…Par Vollen, the Imperium, the Dalish...No, the problems were the Crows. The House of Repose didn't make a move since she destroyed the contract, so, that was in the clear for now.

She growled on the inside. Damn Orlesians, sending two Guild of Assassins after her. And damn Crows, accepting the contract while they had worked together for more than three years. Well, the part where she had killed one of them before fleeing in the north did not help. What will Minrathous and Par Vollen do, by the way? She was not sure if she was to expect assassins, concerns or disregard from them both. She had to send a letter to the Clans, that was for sure. They had to know what happened…The best thing for them was to cast her out officially the fastest possible before anyone pieces together the last seven years of her life and decides to go after the Dalish as payback. And she had to contact Oran. They had to keep the rumors under control, if it was still manageable.

* * *

_Keeper Istimaethoriel,_

_I fear this report is late written, considering the news likely reached the Free Marches already. The Divine Conclave turned the worst way possible, the Temple exploded, creating the lovely green Breach in the sky, seeable, I'm certain, from where you are. For all I gathered until now, this is an opening in the Veil, on to the Fade._

_I cannot say how I survive. It does not matter. The important point is I did and I'm now caught in the middle of this because of a mark who ended up – Mythal knows how – on my hand, able to close the rifts, and hopefully, at some point, the Breach itself._

_The attention on me will likely do the People no good. I'm protecting the Dalish the best I can, but my recommendation is for you to send me the official act of banishment. Yes, I know you have had one prepared for some time now, let's cut the crap, would we? I have too much enemies who won't be satisfied with only my death._

_I'm, as always, at the service of the People._

_If this letter is to be my last report, please allow me the personal digression. Father, it has been an honor, hahren. I hope you and my sisters are well. Embrace Analen and Linril for me._

_May the Creators watch over you all_

_Mahariel_

* * *

She finished the coded message and wiped with irritation the tears threatening to fall over it.  _You are no kid, you idiot. You left the clan seven years ago, what does it truly change to be banished? This is the best thing to do. You won't be able to protect them, you will hardly be able to protect yourself!_ She grabbed the pendant who had escaped from under her collar. Not like she had such great relationship with her People. A lot of them where already seeing her as an  _harellan._  She knew well enough what the Dalish whispered about her. That she had turned her back on them, working with shemlens, Qunari, learning their languages, their cultures.

It did not prevent them to take gladly the reports she sent them and to use the information she gave them. For free, by the way. They had no idea how valuable these pieces of information were. Her former Keeper and Clan were not as close-minded and were grateful. It did not matter that much, but a part of her was still happy to know her family did not suffer from her deeds. They would have in another Clan. Well, no time to be nostalgic. How did some elves call her again? Oh yes,  _tuast harellan._  And she had indeed a bunch of people to deceive.

She stood and get out of the cottage. She whistled and held her hand. The melody was simple but always worked. Useful trick, courtesy of her ranger of a father. A crow landed on her wrist and she tied the letter to its thin leg. She whispered.

"Keeper Istimaethoriel, Clan Lavellan, Free Marches. Sylviras, da'ean _._ "  _Fly, little bird._

The bird nodded with obedience and took its leave. She watched it a time, making sure it was not about to stop to Leliana's tent. No big chances she would break the code, still, better if she did not get to try. A lot of birds were taking their leave, anyway. The Nightingale was pretty busy with sending letters on behalf of the new Inquisition. Mahariel yawned. She might have been already out for three days but she still felt exhausted. She went back to the cottage and wrote quickly the letter for Oran. Once sent, she slept until the next morning.

* * *

When she woke up, she was happy to see a fat breakfast waiting for her on the desk. She did not eat in way too long. She enjoyed it gratefully before doing the same morning ritual as the previous day. She did not see any Qunari around. A pity, war-paint did not need to be done every day if done with proper paint. With blood, it was another story. Maybe could she ask Leliana and Cassandra about it?

She was surprised to hear sound of swords outside. She considered them, her hand already on the hilt of her dagger. No, no attack. Soldiers, training. Her hand dropped back on her thigh. She stretched with a wince. Going back to training could be a good idea. She decided to go see who exactly was training, not having better to do for all she knew.

She stopped when she spotted Varric. Hum, the seeker indeed had the most unlikely kind of prisoners, staying around willingly. He spotted her at the same time and smiled. She gave him a nod. He waved her to come closer. She shrugged, why not?

"Grey, happy to see you are on your feet!" She raised an amused eyebrow.

"Why Grey?" He pointed her from head to toe with a loose gesture.

"Don't know, there is something…Grey about you. A lot of secrets, uncertainty. A feeling of grey moral ground maybe? Well, whatever, hope you like it, I won't change it anyway. Suits you too well!" She nodded with a smirk.

"I do like it actually. Simple, elegant, that's all me." She gave him a graceful bow with a lopsided smile.

"So, heard you did hell of an impression to Nightingale and Seeker? They have no idea what to do with you, you know."

"So, they asked the friendly dwarf to investigate?" He laughed light-heartedly.

"I said no, on my behalf. Not that I'm not intrigued by the stories our  _Herald_  might have. How do you feel, by the way? Sure, the Seeker did not ask you."

" _Radiant,_  thank you. What about you, Master Tethras?"

" _I_  am not the one who passed from most wanted criminal to blessed Herald of Andraste within a day." Her nose wrinkled.

"Blessed Herald of Andraste? That's all? I'm almost offended." He shook his head, more serious.

"For days now we have been staring at the Breach, watching demons and Maker knows what fall out of it. Bad for moral would be an understatement. I still can't believe anyone was in there and lived."

"Considering this lovely sum-up, why did you stay?"

"I like to think I'm as selfish and irresponsible as the next guy. But  _this_? Thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them. And now, there is a hole in the sky. Even  _I_  can't just walk away and leave that to solve itself out."

She slightly glanced to the Ironbark necklace of Kadan on her shoulder and shook her head.

"I doubt I really processed it all yet."

"If this is all just the Maker winding us up, I hope there is a damn good punchline coming." She snorted.

"If it is, this Maker is a hell of a good Hissrad, I'll grant him that." She saw his questioning look and translated "Keeper of Illusion. Usual name for a spy."

"Is that  _your_  rank?" She smirked.

"I thought you said no to investigation duty?" He held his hands in innocence.

"I did, don't mean I can't be curious. I met a Ben-Hassrath elf once. Hell of a mess as well. Better be prepared." He paused "Anyway, you might wanna consider running at the first opportunity. I've written enough tragedy to know where this is going. Heroes are everywhere, I've seen that. But the hole in the sky…That's beyond heroes. We are going to need a miracle." She smiled reassuringly.

"Good thing I'm no hero material then." He laughed faintly.

"As you say, Grey."

"Unrelated, do you know where I can find Solas? My guess is, I owe him to be still alive. Kind of thing worth some thanks."

"Adan and him, indeed. You will find them both this way, after some stairs. You can follow the elfroot smell."

She nodded her thanks and followed the direction he pointed her.


	5. Intrigued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For additional translations, please check the end notes.

* * *

 

Solas was in the little cottage the seeker assigned him. They were back from the Temple of Sacred Ashes for four days.

He was wondering about this elf who was bearing the mark.

When he first heard of a survivor, and the glooming green mark on their hand, he decided to come himself. He was not far away, in order to keep an eye on Corypheus' use of his orb. And fenedhis did things go wrong…This survivor…It was unexpected but if the mark was what he thought – what he intended to bear himself…Despite the chances, he had to come. First, in order to determine if he could claim it for himself, of course.

Knowing the current situation, he was not surprised of the reaction of the woman in front of him. He had raised his hands and put his staff on the ground. Finally, Cassandra allowed him to come and see by himself. She was suspicious and stayed beside him during his first session with the prisoner. He did not really care – not like she was able to understand what he was trying to do. When it became clear that he was too weak to transfer the mark, he took a decision: keeping this woman alive. This whole disaster was not his doing but nonetheless,  _his_  mistake.

He stayed near her for days, forcing his will upon the mark. He knew the second he was near her she was a mage, but did not share this piece of information. A powerful mage even, he had to grant her that. Her being an elf was unexpected and, somehow, ironic. Maybe something elven remained in these  _recent_  elves…How could she have survived – even barely – the Anchor without that? No mortal could…Theoretically. She was both a mystery and an unexpected element. But again, so had been Corypheus.  _Fenedhis it went so wrong…Maybe her at least will be a better surprise than the first one_. Thought he, bitterly. Right, as if a she could be anything else than unfortunately predictable. He did not even look at her. There was no point.

When he finally met her – awake – he paid her not that much more attention.  _Her magic sounds familiar…Elvhen?_ He dismissed the thought.  _The Anchor. Through it, your magic is bounded to hers and this bound echo in you._

He was supremely irritated but her potential state as a member of the Qun. However, the few words they had exchanged in elvhen told him more: she had a strong Dalish accent, as he suspected. Yet, she did not look at him with the disdain of the Dalish. Considering her obvious habit of not letting her thoughts known, it did not mean a lot.

On the other hand, were her actions. Saving the scouts of a hostile organization holding her prisoner, for one. And the last rift they closed. She had kept her magic secret until then, probably because she had no trust in the seeker – he could understand that. And yet, she did not hesitate to reveal it to save both Cassandra and him, putting herself in a mortal situation. He was not sure if it was courageous, idiot or due to too much confidence. Maybe a bit of the three. Still, there was a nobility in the intention, he could grant her that.

He was not sure yet what he was going to do. He was still an apostate in a Chantry-related organization. It was not the best situation. Especially considering his current state. He was not powerful enough to take the chance of staying here, surrounded by a growing, likely hostile-to-be, army.

He was now in the cottage, checking his packages. Whatever his decision, he wanted to be ready to take his leave swiftly if needed. Someone knocked on the door. He raised a skeptical eyebrow and stood up. He reached the door in a stride and opened to find the white-haired elf. He frowned a bit to the war-paint on her face, covering the Ghilan'nain vallaslin he knew were under. They had been made quickly, with blood. She was still in this not-being-elf-affiliated idea, obviously. He could not blame her for that, even if he doubted the efficiency. He glanced instinctively at the mark, barely giving attention to the tattoos. Still seemed stable.

"Herald, do you need anything?" Her face remained impassible even if she was irritated by the new title. She did not point out. She barely knew the man and  _don't call me that_  was not the best way to begin a conversation.

"Solas, do I bother? I can come back later." Asked she. He realized he had barely opened the door and spoke rudely considering his still frowning eyebrow. He softened his face and opened properly to invite her in. She nodded. He pointed her a chair and took one nearby. She finally resumed.

"I did not mean to barge in, Varric told me where to find you. I just wanted to thank you properly." He looked at her, slightly surprised.

"For what if I may ask?"

"For preventing the thing on my hand from killing me? Again?"

"No thanks needed, Herald." He knew he was cold. He didn't want to antagonize her but he had no intention to befriend her either.

"They are, actually. When someone save your life, I am fairly sure courtesy requires you to thank the person."  _Why does she insist so mu_  –  _You sound as if you are refusing her thanks. Right._

"I appreciate it, Herald. If we are to exchange thanks, I owe you one as well." She raised an eyebrow.

"Why that?"

"You save the seeker and me from an unfortunate situation in the Temple." She waved the thought away.

"Don't thank me for  _that,_  I hardly did anything." He smirked faintly. Did she realize the nonsense? She felt the untold comment and resumed "It is not the same. We were in a fight  _together_. This is how a team work, you got the back of your companions. You saved my life outside of a fight, in which situation you do not owe me any kind of support. When you enter the battlefield alongside with someone, it is different." He frowned a bit, trying to understand her logic. It weirdly made sense…Somehow. He finally nodded, thoughtful. There was a form of wisdom in her point of view. He relaxed a bit and shook his head with a silent chuckle.

"The  _chosen of Andraste_. A blessed hero sent to save us all." She smirked a bit.

"Am I riding in on a shining steed?" He smiled slightly.

"I would have suggested a griffon but sadly, they are instinct."

"Well they said that of dragons once and look – Wait, what about a dragon?" A sparkle of excitement jumped into her eyes. He muttered a light laughter. His face grew serious but remained softened.

"Joke as you will, posturing is necessary. I've journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten. Every great war has its heroes. I'm just curious what kind you'll be." She ignored the second reference to her as a  _hero_ in ten minutes.  _I'm no hero, never been, never will be._  She was more interested in his other words than in his question.

"What do you mean, ruins and battlefields?" He glanced at her with an imperceptible look of approbation. She was curious.

"Any building strong enough to withstand the rigors of time has history. Every battlefield is steeped in death. Both attract spirits. They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds. When I dream in such places, I go deep into the Fade. I can find memories no other living being has ever seen." Her eyes widened the slightest. It sounded amazing. Relive memories like that, discover the past and its mysteries… _Creators, the man could even have seen Arlathan!_ But she could not ask that, way too Dalish-concerns.

"You fall asleep in the middle of ancient ruins, isn't that dangerous?"

"I do set wards. And if you leave food out for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let live."  _Is that just me or does he sound pretty satisfied of himself? Well, I'll grant him that, it_ is _impressive._

"I've never heard of anyone going so far into the Fade. That's extraordinary."  _Extraordinary? Unexpected adjective to say the least..._ He smiled genuinely. It was nice to talk to a mage not close-minded by the Chantry doctrine.

"Thank you. It is not a common field of study for obvious reasons. Not so flashy as throwing fire or lightning. But the thrill of finding remnants of thousand years old dreams? I would not trade it for anything."

_Flashy maybe but useful and deadly…And is our aloof apostate a secret romantic or is it an impression of mine?_ His voice had grown softer and smoother as he spoke, it was touching. The man was really passionate about his study. And there was reason to be, it was incredible. She knew already this was not their last discussion about it... _He must have learnt so much…Maybe he could even teach me?_ Apparently, her curiosity and interest in his studies answered somehow the previous question about the hero-thing, as he resumed.

"I will stay then. At least until the Breach has been closed." Her green-blue lagoon eyes examined him questioningly.

"Was that in doubt?"

"I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces and, unlike you, I do not have a  _divine_  mark protecting me. Cassandra has been accommodating but you understand my caution." She nodded, her eyes suddenly harder. As if she took a decision, she looked up to him with determination.

"You came here to help Solas. I won't let them use that against you."  _Is that so?_

"How would you stop them?"

"Any way I have to."

His face relaxed and his eyes softened. He could not be sure but…He actually believed her. She seemed honorable and he did not think she would say this lightly. No, she meant it. For once, he truly looked at her and not at the mark. The confidence on her posture, the resolution in her eyes, the recklessness in her features…He replied earnestly.

"Thank you."

"Tel'isala, lethallin." She smiled. He smirked and noticed with a discreet playfulness.

"We are not on the battlefield."

"Indeed, but one should be thanked for its deeds and not its words. Don't try to beat me with my own playbook." Added she as she gave him his smirk back. He found himself smiling slightly once more. He grew serious after few seconds.

"But now let us hope either the mages or the templars have the power to seal the Breach."

"Indeed, that – "

She interrupted herself as both their head spun towards the window. Someone was shouting, horrifyingly loud outside. The voice was angry. They frowned and exchanged a look before jumping on their feet. They rushed outside the little cottage. The voice seemed to come from outside the town. She frowned as they arrived closer. She knew that voice, it was –

"I want to see the basalit-an, bas!"

"I don't know who you are talking about and I will not let you in if you don't calm down!" Mahariel's eyes widened and she spoke her thought as she ran.

"Isskari?"

She sped up her jog, ignoring Solas' questioning look. He had a hard time keeping her with her but still followed. Varric joined them, obviously alarmed by the shouts as well. He looked at Solas for insights but he simply shrugged, having absolutely no idea if it was a threat or not.

The white-hair slammed the door and declared, voice loud enough to reach the Qunari and the blond human male on the left.

"Kost, Isskari."

Soldiers surrounding the Qunari man, swords pointing at him, as much as the blond human and the Qunari himself turned to her. She ignored the humans and let a genuine beam took her lips as she saw she had indeed recognized the Qunari voice. The tall horned grey-skinned man smiled and his voice resounded as he waved the swords away.

"Shanedan, Basalit-an."

He scowled menacingly as the soldiers who were already putting their swords back up to prevent him from moving. The blond man glanced at Mahariel. She had no idea who the damn he was and sincerely did not give a damn shit right now. She heard her giant of a friend grunting to the soldiers.

"Ashkost kata, basra!" Varric intervened.

"Curly, I think you should let the man pass."

"I shall not let an unknown Qunari – " His eyes stopped on the elf's hand and his back straightened. "Herald. You know this man?" She raised an eyebrow but the dwarf spoke first, preventing her from being particularly unpleasant.

"I think this has been made obvious, Curly." The man frowned but signified the soldiers to step back. The elf nodded.

"Thank you…?"

"Cullen. Commander of the Inquisition forces."

"Duly noted. A pleasure." She turned back to Isskari and smiled once more. The Qunari grunted.

"Are these men going to try to stab me if I touch you, Kadan?"

"I think they took the hint."

"Good."

The Qunari tilted and took her in his arms. She started, not used to such display of affection from the man. He straightened, lifting her from the ground. The scene was almost comical, considering her thin frame. It would have taken three of her to match the Qunari width. The jaw of the whole audience dropped, a hug not being what they expected from the giant. When he finally let her feet found the ground, she stepped back and she extended her arm.

"You are alive, Kadan." The Qunari nodded and he grabbed her elbow to give her the gladiator-style handshake.

"So are you, my friend." He looked at her face and snorted "I might have proper paint if you need." She laughed, releasing his arm.

"Could be an idea, indeed."

She turned to glance around. Well, obviously, no one thought the reunion of two friends deserved any kind of privacy. She cleared her throat.

"Commander…" She gestured to the soldiers. He seemed to hesitate, not at ease with leaving their Herald alone with the Qunari. He finally nodded and bowed slightly.

"Herald."

The soldiers did as well as they took their leave. Solas and Varric remained aside and she noticed Cassandra presence nearby as well. She looked at the Commander, going right to Cassandra and grabbing her elbow to tell her something. She nodded and walked with a not-so-subtle haste to the door. Mahariel snorted.

"And he just told her to find Leliana along with some spies to watch." The Qunari nodded.

"They don't know you very well, do they? What with the  _Herald_?" She snorted.

"Bas vashedan."

"I see." He glanced to the elf and the dwarf. She nodded. Varric probably did not hear but the elven hearing of Solas let him overhear well enough. She spoke not louder to address him.

"Ar dirth ma harthas, lethallin. Varas."  _I know you hear, lethallin. Go away._  Solas looked at her and loudened his voice.

"I was not, lethallan."

"Funny you heard  _that_  anyway."

Both Qunari and dwarf nodded to him. Himself had to admit he had been pretty stupid to answer. On his behalf, he was  _not_  listening. He could hear but was not eavesdropping on purpose. The elvhen caught his attention. Varric and him took few steps towards the door and she did the same with Isskari on the opposite direction. Her face grew serious.

"I guess there is no one else left?" He shook his head.

"No. The others were after the Tal-Vashoth, closer to the explosion. I was at camp, studying a particular saartoh-bas we had found earlier. You might like it by the way. Take a look."

He handed her a hilt which was tied to his belt. She examined it. Interesting, a staff made especially for arcane warrior, to form a less mana-consuming spiritual blade. Impressive, she had seen sketches of such staff in Tevinter but never laid her eyes on one. Funny to find that in the south.

"A blade of Tidarion. The Laetan who became Archon. Fought like a commoner but with the magic power of his rank. And cold elemental magic. Nice." She sighed "Par Vollen sent you to kill me, didn't they?" He laughed.

"This order came years ago, Basalit-an. They were not happy of us working with you, considering you refused to convert. They did not send orders yet. No one told them  _you_  were the one with the glowing mark able to fix the sky, I think."

"Still, my guess is your orders had always been to kill me if I left the care of Salit. And I cannot come back with you to resume my mission in Minrathous. So…" He gave a small sad smile.

"Actually, Salit negotiated your release of our care before we left the Imperium. Well, you understand me, you were not officially prisoner, but as you pointed out, we were to kill you if you stopped working with us. But, as a Basalit-an and a Kadan, the Qun is ready to trust that you will not share any sensible piece of information."

"You do realize I do not own any sensible piece of information, right?" He shrugged.

"I know. The worst you could do is to reveal your magister you worked with Ben-Hassraths all along. That will be an incredibly stupid thing to say, he will kill you right away." She snorted.

"Yes, I would rather keep this piece of information to myself too. No word arrived from the said magister at the camp, by the way?" Asked she with fake-genuine concern. She had kept to herself the said magister asked her to spy on the Conclave as well.

"You are a weird one, Kadan, you need to stop befriend with everyone. It will bring you troubles." She laughed light-heartedly.

"If I did not befriend with everyone, I would be dead by now." He considered and nodded.

"Granted." He looked at her outfit "What are you doing exactly with all the tattoo visible? This has no sense."

"Believe it or not, the very people calling me Herald wanted me dead few days ago."

"Confusing the reader, Hissrad?" She smiled.

"Good job, don't you think?"

"You covered the elven ones." She nodded.

"Anyone would think twice before attacking the Imperium or Par Vollen. I don't trust the humans to think as long before raiding Dalish Clans."

"You have a point. Rethsaam."

"Rethsaam." Echoed she. The Qunari dropped the saddlebag settled on his shoulder and opened it. He handed her a package and then two little circular boxes.

"Take that, Kadan. I figured you might want your second antaam-saar as well as your other armor. I was right, considering this one has been obviously fixed by some basra."

"I was happy enough with them fixing it at all."

"Still, not the proper antaam-saar of a Basalit-an. I drew some blueprints, in case you need more. There is  _proper_  war-paint in the boxes. Black and dark red. As you like." He finished with another sad smile. She turned to face him fully.

"I take it this is goodbyes, Isskari?"

"I have to go back to Par Vollen. Anaam esaam Qun." She sighed and stretched her hand again.

"May I never meet you on the battlefield, Kadan."

"Agreed. Panahedan, Kadan."

They exchanged a warm handshake and a slight bow of respect. They parted solemnly, Mahariel turning back towards Haven, packages under her arm. She could feel the numerous eyes on her. She knew she could not avoid the eyes so she had taken the Qunari somewhere well visible but with the advantage of having no hidden spots for spies. She could still avoid ears and it was the important point. She could have soundproofed them, but soundproofs had this tendency to look suspicious.

She was relieved she did not get to fight the last survivor of her Qunari friends. As she was back near where the recruits were training, Cassandra walked quickly to her. The elf smiled and nodded her greetings.

"Seeker."

"Herald. Care to tell us who was that?" The voice was not menacing but firm enough to tell her she was not going to be satisfied by some question-answer Orlesian-style. Mahariel smiled.

"A friend. He was with me when we arrived here. I'm relieved to know he is alive." The genuine answer obviously flustered Cassandra who considered her a sec with wide-eyes.

"I did not consider you might have lost people as well in the explosion." She shrugged.

"There was no time for personal grief."

"I guess you are right. So, you did come with Qunari."

"Weren't the mercenaries engaged for the security Qunari as well?"

"You were with them?"

"I did not say that." Cassandra looked at her, obviously displeased with her come-back to this type of answer.

"Herald, I am not your enemy." Mahariel judged her few seconds before answering, very serious.

"I am not keeping things from you to antagonize you or protect  _myself,_  Seeker. 'Tis too late for that. Be honest how many assassins came during the last days?" Cassandra started and hesitated. She finally let out.

"I did not count when you were prisoner. It was to be expected considering you were the main suspect for the explosion but since you stabilized the Breach…Five."

"Mainly Crows?" Cassandra nodded.

"Three of them. The remaining, unaffiliated "

_Unafiliated…_ So, likely – and hopefully – mercenaries who knew of the reward on her head. If they were disorganized, it meant the headquarters did not know yet and they were acting from their own initiative…The doing of young assassins, potentially over-confident, convinced they could take the target out without help. Good. Over-confidence meant they did not share their hunch with the Guild…Hopefully.

"See, I know who is against me. And now, we can add the Chantry. My point is, I don't keep things from you to protect myself. I keep things for me because, if these insights spread, these people will go further than just me. The less everyone knows, the more everyone is misled, the more my true people are safe." Cassandra tilted her head.

"Yet, you tell me this, admitting you are not what you appear to be." Mahariel gave her a lopsided smile.

"Take it as a proof of good faith. And besides, what do I appear to be?" Cassandra snorted.

"Point taken. I…Understand, Herald."

The elf looked at her as she went and thought a bit. Her enemies did not know her true name. No one did, except for her former clan and some elves of the Denerim Alienage. Without further insights, without her clan name…She could as well  _be_  a city elf. She sighed. _I'm going to regret that_. _But that might be the smartest move for them to stop minding my business._  She grabbed the seeker's elbow before she returns to the dummies.

"Mahariel."

"Excuse me?"

"Mahariel.  _That_  is the real proof of good faith." The information hit home.

"This is your real name."

"Not sure what a  _real_  name is, but the oldest I've had, yes."

"This is elven." Mahariel smirked.

"I think the part where I'm elven was already quite obvious with the ears."

"No, I mean… "

"The city of Halamshiral in Orlais and Solas in Tevinter bear elven names as well. Does that make them more elven than other?"

"Once more, point taken. I guess this is already something. You don't seem Dalish anyway."

She kept her face absolutely unreadable, even if it did hurt a bit. If it was an attempt of the seeker to see the truth, that had been subtle…No, likely just a thought she spoke up. Whatever. She turned around and was surprised to spot Solas at the door, looking at them both. As she passed near him, he spoke with a low voice.

"A composure unlike the usual misplaced pride of your people." She raised an eyebrow, containing her irritation.

"You assume quickly you know more of me than most, lethallin."

"You have vallaslin."

"Do you know what the Dalish are to the city elves? Would it be so surprising to see some elves of an Alienage mimicking the blood writing of their fabled cousins?"

She barely stopped a sec in front of him and indicate him the gates with a glance. She definitely did not want to continue  _this_  conversation, but not stopping would have shown her irritation. Instead she resumed.

"Was insulting the people you suppose mine your contribution to the investigation duty?"

"If it was, I would have to admit I failed at this task. Definitely a difficult one. What do you have here?" He pointed her packages.

"My friend brought me proper war-paint, my other armors as well as blueprints for the antaam-saar." She turned to him with a bit of mischief "Want one, lethallin?" His nose wrinkled.

"I will have to decline, Herald." She stopped in front of her little cottage and smirked.

"A pity, I'm sure it would suit you. Maybe shall I offer one to Varric, would be quite the sight. Well, it has been a pleasure Solas. If you may excuse me, I have blood to wash and war-paint to do properly." He smirked faintly and nod his goodbyes.

"Mahariel." She raised an eyebrow.

"I would have told you too, Messere. You should know eavesdropping is a poor habit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salit: leader rank in the Ben-Hassrath
> 
> Isskari: Ben-Hassrath with the duty to retrieve magical artifacts
> 
> Kost: peace
> 
> basra: foreigner
> 
> Bas vashedan: foreigner's bullshit
> 
> Kadan: (my) friend (/in this case)


	6. Let's get to work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little warning here: brief description of sexual abuse. It is at the end of the chapter and there is a double break line before if you want to skip it.  
> For additional translation, please check the end notes.

* * *

 

On the early afternoon the next day, a servant told her the seeker was waiting for her in the Chantry.

She was already ready and did not wait to head to the building. She looked with no small amount of irritation at the soldiers outside her cottage. Now that she thought about it, she should not have let the Seeker know attempts on her life were to be expected. At least, before she let her know she was well aware of the assassins after her, this was only scouts watching her back in a more discreet way.

She discussed quickly with Cassandra before they entered the improvised war room. Ironic, a war room in a Chantry. A new face was there. Her skin tone was giving her as an Antivan and her outfit and stance as a diplomat. She was amused to see the subtle glance the named Josephine gave her. She seemed to hesitate before nodding her greetings with a cultivated smile after Cassandra introduce her.

"Andaran Atish'an." Mahariel smirked.

"You had a hard time choosing, didn't you?" Seeing in the woman's eyes she was afraid to have offended her, she waved the thought "Just messing, Ambassador. Dhea'him." The woman soothed and smiled again as the Seeker mumbled.

"One gets used to it." Leliana looked at Mahariel.

"You speak elvhen too."

"I had to do something expected at some point, didn't I? Speaking of expected things, let me guess, what would be a triumvirate without a Spymaster?" The Nightingale smiled slightly.

"Touché, once more. A pity you are already Herald, you would be an invaluable spy." Mahariel smirked.

"Subtle, but who here doubted I was one?"

She felt the gaze of Josephine on her neck as she spoke. Of course, an Antivan would recognized the typical curved lines of the Crows tattoos. She turned to her.

"Ask away, Ambassador, I could even answer." Josephine's eyes widened once more, not aware her glance had been that obvious. It would not have been for most, on her behalf.

"My apologies, Herald. The tattoo on your neck seemed familiar – "

"Of course, it does, you are Antivan. Who better than an Antivan would recognize it?" Leliana nodded, thoughtful.

"It  _was_  the Crows. I have been wondering if it was only typical of them or spread in all Antiva." Cassandra and Cullen's eyes widened. The Seeker exclaimed.

"You are a Crow?!" Mahariel crossed her arms, amused.

"A guild rarely chases its own members, Seeker. Or do you think I would have confessed being an assassin sent to the Divine Conclave that easily?" Leliana commented.

"Or at least, a guild rarely chases its  _current_  members." Mahariel smirked and gave a nod of appreciation. This little bard fight was awfully entertaining. A pity the warriors here were that eager to see that game come to an end.

"Food for thoughts, isn't it? Let's come back to the main topic which certainly was not my tattoos."

The discussion came back to the main issues, knowing how to close the Breach. That involved coming back on the endless debate of these last years in the South: The Mage-Templar War. Mahariel listened carefully, not sure what to think. When the conflict began in 9:37, she was in Orlais, but she did not wonder much about it. She had always been an apostate after all, she had no true idea of how the mages were treated in the Circles. She had simply hidden her magic when she was in the cities. However, she reached the Imperium one year later, in 9:38 and she had had a good view of what was a country ruled by mages. And she was not impressed. Somehow, she had the feeling the Dalish had the right way of handling magic. But, she has to admit, it only worked because there could not be more than three mages in a Clan. Their way could never be applied to all Thedas and, besides, one forgets too often to mention the Dalish mages born once the quota were reached. She raised an eyebrow when the topic moved to her lovely new title. She commented with no small amount of sarcasm.

"How am  _I_ the  _Herald of Andraste_?" She rested her tattoo arm on the table to emphasize the ridicule of the thought. It did not seem to disturb the Seeker.

"People saw what you did at the Temple. How you stopped the Breach from growing. They also heard of the woman seen in the rift when we first find you. They believe, that was Andraste."

"Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading – "Took over Leliana.

"Which we have not." Noticed a firm Cassandra.

"The point is everyone is talking about you."

"It is quite the title, isn't it? How do you feel about that?" Intervened Cullen.  _How nice of you to ask._ She smiled faintly.

"Already getting a headache to be honest. I'm no Herald of any deities, besides."

She dismissed the thought with a gesture. That was ridiculous but not her main concern.  _Everyone is talking about you…That's not good, not more for me than them_. She knew Leliana was looking for any kind of emotion on her face. She felt a bit guilty: these people were trying to do the right thing. She respected that. And they ended up having to work with a criminal wanted in all Orlais. And, possibly in the near future, by Par Vollen. And Tevinter, if the Imperium put the pieces together.  _Well…Shit_. Good thing they were currently in Ferelden. She will have to come up with a strategy. Quickly. The discussion had resumed and they were getting to what they needed from her. Meeting a Chantry Mother in the Hinterlands. She felt once more the glance of Josephine along her arm.

"Looking for a way to sell  _that_  as your blessed Herald, Ambassador?" Unnerving the Antivan was as easy as it was fun. Leliana rescued her friend.

"I think Josephine concerns where for your well-being. Isn't this  _armor_  too light for the weather of Wintermarch?" She took her Orlesian accent and bowed humbly.

"What an endearing  _genuine_ concern, my ladies. I shall reassure you, the weather is no trouble to me." Her face grew serious "When am I to leave to meet this Mother?"

"The sooner, the better. I will accompany you." Answered Cassandra with a sparkle of appreciation for her eagerness to act.

"I thought as much."

"My peoples will leave tonight to clear the path. I suggest you leave the day after tomorrow. First lights." Added Leliana. Mahariel nodded.

"Agreed."

* * *

Varric and Solas joined them for the travel to the Hinterlands. Mahariel eventually agreed to wear her other armor instead of her antaam-saar. She did not intend to wear it either way. It was her favorite spying outfit, offering the most freedom of movement and its lightness was good for discretion. However, troubles were to be expected and, unless the Qunari wearing the armor in battle, her skin was not as thick and the fabric was hardly protective.

The Seeker, Spymaster and Ambassador did not seem more pleased with her other armor, however. It was more covering – not like less was really possible – but sleeveless on the left. There were silver chains on her shoulder, covering the Qunari banner. It looked pretty much like a sturdy enchanter armor, except for that. The leather was dark red and the fabric black. Her silver gauntlets were forming claws on her fingers. Her hood was black with silver lining. She had altered the lines of the Crows tattoo – even if it was barely seeable – with dark red war-paint, making it looks like another Imperial dragon. Her vallaslin were once more hidden with war-paint but in a subtler way, a circular symbol echoing the circle of Magi one on her chin and curved lines entwined on her forehead. She still wore her dragon earring winding around her pointed ear.

On her behalf, she looked apologetic for the armor, explaining she had only the antaam-saar and this one. The spymaster pointed out she did not have to go for the whole Imperial look. Mahariel shrugged and answered that better full Imperial look than Imperial armor, Crows symbol and Qunari war-paint. Being seen as a vint was not the best thing, clearly, but it was always better to be acknowledged as something. It gave the impression to the people they knew who they were facing and it reassured them. The Spymaster had to agree with this point.

"I take it you intend to approach Mother Giselle with your Tevinter accent?"

"Slight one, likely tainted with a bit of Fereldan." Leliana nodded appreciatively.

"As would be the one of a Tevinter exile for several years." Mahariel smirked.

"How easily people would assume this person left the Imperium willingly and condemn the abuses of its countrymen, I wonder?"

They walked mostly in silence. They had no horses – one of the reasons they desperately needed to reach the Hinterlands and their horse-master – and the quick pace was hard enough without them losing their breathe with banters. The travel was to take a week and a half. They were to arrive there by the last week of Wintermarch.

On the sixth night of the travel, Solas was on last watch when he heard a twig crack nearby. He frowned. There was no wind. Remembering the mention of several assassins sent after the Herald already, he decided it was worth investigating. He stood from the rock he was sitting on and listened carefully. Except for the regular breath of the three others sleeping, there was nothing. He wandered a bit further in the woods nearby. He put a barrier around him as a precaution. He spotted a glimpse of shadow. He was about to ring the alarm to the others when the assassin came out of the shadow, blade against his throat, immobilizing his arms in his back. The man whispered in his ear.

"Where is she?"

Solas' nose wrinkled with irritation against himself. He should have sensed him and he should be able to petrify him even in this posture. But he was so weak since he awaked, he failed at the first and couldn't proceed the second.  _Fenedhis lasa._ He remained perfectly silent, knowing his barrier will protect him either way. The deep antivan accent resumed with an arrogant snort

"Your silence gives you away, elf. You know who I am talking about."

"I do not.  _She_  is vague as an indication." 'Twas no lie, he had only a  _very_ strong hunch. He did not know for sure. The voice seemed almost impressed.

"Who would have think, People protecting  _her_  still exist. I thought you elves had abandoned such lost cause long ago. Commendable, I guess. Stupid, but commendable." Solas frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"You are an elf, you know what your kind think of her. Now, tell me where she is before I cut your throat."

Solas could feel his barrier weakening. He better found a way out quickly. He was about to try something when his barrier suddenly come back to full strength.

Mahariel considered the situation in a second. She cast a barrier on Solas and went back in stealth. She sent a blade perfectly aimed on the assassin's hand to disarm him. She rushed to attack the Crow from the rear. She cut the tendon of his ankle, her sharpened dagger penetrating the leather of its boots without difficulty. As he fell on his knees, Solas spun to face him as he took a step back. The assassin tried a useless attempt to drive a blade in Mahariel's leg right in front of him but the blade bounced on the metal of her boots. She squatted behind him, holding him in the same position he had been holding Solas few seconds before. He spoke with disdain.

"So, it was true. You are back in Ferelden."

"A pity you will not be able to share this with the Guildmaster."

She cut his throat without further words. She stood and examined Solas' throat with relief.

"Are you alright?"

"I am. I appreciate your assistance in this matter, Herald." She shook her head with a scowl.

"He was here for me. You should not have been the one facing this threat. Why the hell did you go aloof from the camp?!"

"I heard a suspicious sound I considered worth investigating. I was correct." She crossed her arms.

"Yes, because being correct would have been such a consolation if he had killed you because no one was able to hear." He raised an eyebrow, annoyed.

"If he had found me in the camp, he would not have stopped to ask, considering he would have seen you and simply cut  _your_  throat without anyone having time to intervene." She snorted.

"If one could kill me so easily I would be dead by now. What did he tell you?" Still annoyed by her reaction and over-confidence, he decided to go for her own game.

"You wish you knew, don't you?" She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. I guess what matter is  _we_  are alive,  _he_  is dead."

She ignored him and squatted to loot the corpse and take back the blade she had thrown to disarm the man. She found a contract on a minor noble in his pocket. Nothing very interesting except for a little post-scriptum at the end of the description. She went through it quickly, familiar enough with the cipher. She wasn't surprised the slightest by the content. She rolled her eyes.  _One cannot be wanted for treason if they never were part of the Crows, you know? Stupid Antivans, could at least use the proper words._ She was, however, reassured by one thing.  _Val Chevin. The last location they have is more than three years old. Good._

She suppressed a sigh. The Inquisition had probably found similar contracts on the corpses of might not know the cipher used as well as her, but the Nightingale will eventually break it at some point. She moved from the trees back towards the camp, not giving more attention to the mage. If he wanted to risk his life, not her issue after all. Still, she was pissed. Not her issue, but her fault in this particular situation. He could risk a deathblow as he wanted for a cause he chose to defend, but not as some collateral damage of the Crows vendetta against her.

Solas frowned deeper when she left without nor letting him see what she found nor a word. Rude. But that was even more interesting. She had not been rude to anyone yet. Unnerving, definitely, but not rude. This was the first time in two weeks she did the slightest mistake in her perfect mastery of the Game. Something displeased her enough to provoke that. The assassin himself? The letter? Himself taking the risk of stepping away? She did seem pretty irritated about that, indeed. What was she thinking? He was perfectly able of taking care of himself, he did not need her to protect him. He took offense of her low consideration of his skills. What an ungrateful arrogant brat.

* * *

If the walk had been mostly silent until now, the palpable tension between the elves did not improve it. Even Varric was thinking twice before beginning to relate a tale. On the eighth night and as they were only two days away from their destination, Mahariel took the first watch after dinner. Solas and Cassandra were already sleeping in their bedrolls when the dwarf approached the elf as she was sharpening some daggers nearby.

"What is it with Chuckles, Grey? Since we left the forest, I have the impression you are going to snap at each other throats." Her face unreadable and tone neutral, she answered.

"Nothing more than a slight disagreement." He snorted.

"How did you end up having a disagreement without exchanging a word?" Her nose wrinkled slightly. Right, they did not mention the assassin. She smirked instantly and answered with mischief.

"Elven telepathy."

"Right, avoid the topic." She sighed, tired.

"Fine. I did not mention it because Cassandra is stressed enough as she is. Another assassin came two nights ago, during his watch. Solas moved aside the camp when he heard a sound and it drew the attention of the assassin who ambushed him. I awaked meanwhile, we killed him. End of the story." Varric processed her words with wide-opened eyes. She was dealing quite well with people trying to kill her. He shook his head.

"Alright, well, didn't expect that. Don't explain why you are pissed at each other."

" _I_  am pissed because he should not have taken the risk of moving aside if he was suspecting someone was lurking. It was ill-considered. He was lucky the assassin did not find the camp yet and wanted to question him. I don't know why  _he_  is, but I suspect he thinks I'm ungrateful and I underestimate his skills. I don't. I'm aware he is a very capable mage, but the Crows are no joke. They can take you before you even know they are here."

"Well, it was only one man, at the end."

"It was only one, but it could have been ten." She paused and her hand reached the covered tattoo of the guild on her neck. " _The Crows_  want me, 'tis not to fulfill a contract anymore. There is only one way-out to it. It is to flee, which is out of question for now. So, they are going to have me, eventually. But that's the point: they will have  _me_. No one else." Her face had grown grim. He looked at her sadly, processing the half-confession.

"What did you do to them, Grey?" She shook her head, her eyes sad and lost in the emptiness as her hand was still brushing the emplacement of the tattoo on her neck.

"Mystery for another day." She snorted "Look like the  _friendly-dwarf_  is a strategy who works better than I suspected for the investigation duty. You will have to make me drunk to hear anything else, mark my words."

"Fair enough. You should make peace with Chuckles, however. From what I gathered, you are pissed because he protected you and he is pissed because you are pissed." She smirked, looking back at him.

"Wonder of wonder, if you were highly irritated by the actions of some overconfident ungrateful rude person, would you be eager to risk your life on her behalf?" His eyes widened with disbelief.

"You  _wanted_  him pissed at you. Well…Shit. You tricked Chuckles." He bowed slightly "I'm impressed Grey, you are a true master." She kept her smirk without commenting. He shook his head "Don't get me wrong, I'm impressed but I still think this is stupid and you should make peace. Question, what makes you think I won't tell him?" She laughed.

"You want me to make peace and this very piece of information will irritate him even more. No one like to be played."  _Especially not a player_ kept she unsaid. "It would serve my purpose more than yours to let him know." She glanced towards Solas as she finished and suppressed a frown. Varric raised a brow.

"Not that certain, Grey. Maybe at first, but if he thinks about it twice, he would realize this is your own way of protecting people. Because this is what you do: you push people away to protect them." She smirked again.

"You assume quickly you know me, Master Tethras." He gave a lopsided smile.

"I guess we shall see that." She nodded.

"Meravas." He raised a finger.

"I know at least that for sure: you are no Qunari."

"And why that, if I may ask?" He smiled, satisfied.

"Your friend. He called you Basalit-an. Respected foreigner." If she was displeased by his declaration, she did not let it show and simply commented.

"Your best friend dueled the Arishok. A privilege only a Basali-an could have. Well done. It appears you finally are the best of you all at this game." He laughed.

"Truth be told, I had to put my nose in my own book to figure that out. I knew I heard the word before but could not recall what it meant. On this little victory of mine, goodnight Grey."

"Goodnight Varric." She waited a handful of seconds for the dwarf to go away to glance once more to Solas and speak lower "I repeat, awful habit. Anyway, nydha lethallin."

Hopefully, his back was turned to her and she did not witness his startled expression when she addressed him directly. He did not mean to eavesdrop, but the dwarf came to her before he was asleep and, considering he had been the first topic, he had been interested. For how long had she known he was listening? More interesting, how the hell did she know? He was not sure anymore how to interpret the first part of their discussion, considering. Probably exactly her purpose with these few words.

He had still in mind the sentence of the Crow as well.  _People protecting_ her _still exist. I thought you elves had abandoned such lost cause long ago…You know what your kind think of her._ If there was one thing he thought clear about her, it was her will to protect her people. So, not the elves? Or…Damn, he could already know for sure if these  _people_  were the elves if only he had asked a translation of her Qunlat.

But no, he had looked at her with disdain, falling for her play, asking if she was from the Qun. Odd Varric did not share this conclusion earlier by the way…Well, the dwarf seemed to like the white-hair, he might not be eager to spill her secrets. He had a hard time piecing the things together. For what he had gathered over the previous years, recent elves would not share their language with any stranger. So, she had been part of the Dalish at least long enough for them to share it and grant her vallaslin. A theory suddenly popped in his head: the Dalish had some sort of quota with mages. Yes, it could as well be that. She was born among the People but left her Clan because of too-much mages…But stayed long enough to have vallaslin? Her magic could have been late discovered. It would explain her hunter training.

He was still irritated at her, maybe even more because of his eavesdropping. Maybe it was why he had this pervert need of cracking her secrets. Being outplayed had never been something he was used to, and he definitely did not think he would find such adversary in this broken world. But, he had to admit the dwarf was not wrong and his clairvoyance had quickly soothed a bit his irritation. Her pride – because she did have a lot of it – will never let her confess it, but he had the feeling Varric had a point. And, it would make sense, considering the form of nobility he had already observed in her. He reluctantly had to admit he was intrigued yet again.

* * *

 

* * *

He waited for the end of her shift and looked for her in the Fade. He was not exactly passed the insufferable arrogant brat thing and had decided to find answers by himself. He popped in the middle of a memory.

_They were in a little house whose inside looked Orlesian. She grunted on the ground, looking up to the brown-hair elf with loathe. She spat on his feet._

" _You'll have to do better than that."_

" _You are not going, Mahariel."_

_She jumped on her feet, voice ominous._

" _I'm going wherever I judge proper to go. You cannot stop me!"_

_He shoved her against the wall roughly, blocking her hands above her head._

" _Can't I? Seems like you are out of idea." She hissed between gritted teeth._

" _Not quite."_

_She pushed him away with her legs. He fell heavily on the ground with a grunt. He jumped on his feet just as nimbly as she did before. She glanced towards the dagger on her belt. She hesitated too long. He came back on her, once more immobilizing her hands. He held her tight to prevent her to do that again. Cornering her against the wall again, he spoke, voice low and menacing._

" _If you go, you are finished. If I'm not protecting you, who will?"_

_She frowned, looking for a way out. His hand slipped under her trousers. She straightened, her eyes widened with a mix of fear, disbelief, and deep disappointment._

" _Don't touch me."_

_He pressed his hand between her thighs. Her eyes welled up. He smirked deviously._

" _C'mon, wouldn't you miss me?" Her voice broke as she screamed._

" _Let me go!" The door slammed behind them. A younger elf appeared._

" _What's going –" The man turned to look at him and interrupted._

" _Get. Out. This is none of your business!" The younger elf considered the scene, looking at Mahariel's features and the hand of the other elf. He turned red with anger and charged the man. He shoved him away easily with one hand. But it was enough for Mahariel. She gave a fierce head-butt and slid away from his grasp. The man growled, already jumping back on her. The other elf cried out._

" _El'las'in!"_

_He sent a dagger as he spoke. Mahariel caught it. The man had no time to change his path. He fell on the blade, impaled. Blood splurted on her. Her eyes widened with awe._

The memory vanished around him. He remained ajar.  _That_  was not what he was looking for. He swallowed, suddenly feeling incredibly bad for seeing this. Whatever this was, this had been way too personal and empty from the pieces of information he sought. His teeth were gritted and his hand forming a fist. He had the ominous need to kill an already dead man.

He stayed away from Mahariel for whole other reasons during the next days. The vision shook his perception of the white-hair. The Fade translated feelings in energy, and he felt something break in her, whenever that happened. Not that he cared that much about how her feelings had been hurt, but seeing how low the People had fallen was painful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dhea'him: good afternoon
> 
> Nydha: Good night


	7. The Hinterlands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For additional translations, please check the end notes.

* * *

 

If anything, Mother Giselle had been a nice surprise. Mahariel was waiting for some Roderick-type cleric who would spit on her as a heretic. The Mother was nothing like that. Not that she did not look at her questioningly, but the glance was no judgmental. She even laughed at some comment of the elf. A Mother of the shem Chantry with a sense of humor. Who would have think that? Mahariel – after looking for the agreement of Cassandra on the matter – assigned Mother Giselle an escort to go safely to Haven.

People in the crossroad were looking at her with mixed feelings. Dark suspicion of seeing an elven vint – unexpected sight indeed – and then, when they would hear some Inquisition soldiers calling her Herald, earnest bewilderment. She did not give it much thoughts. The suspicion was expected if not understandable. The trust of the folk had to be earned and for that, she had to prove herself. She listened to Caporal Vale and his men, taking note of the locations and resources needed for the refugees.

Then, the real work began. This area desperately needed to be taken care of. First thing first, the horses. Scout Harding had given them a direction, they had to go through the mages, templars and bandits to reach the Farms now.

* * *

Mahariel was fighting the Templar knight, irritation on her features. Cassandra, Varric and Solas were busy with the archers on the other side of the barricade. Blooded armor won't let her have any kind of window. She leapt to flank him. He spun on his heels, giving her a fierce assault with his shield. She fell on her rear and rolled instantly on the side, wiping a drop of blood from her lips.  _Wrong tactic._  She fade-walked through him to take distance. She thought quickly as she chilled him. Weakening the metal. Right. She smirked and placed an ice mine right on his trajectory to her. With his momentum, he was unable to avoid it and walked right on the trap. He fell backwards, cleaning the magic too late. She charged him with her spiritual blade. She jumped above him, her knees blocking both his hands, trying to reach for sword and shield. She grinned wickedly.

"Fighting for dear life, are we?"

She pressed the blade against his throat, blood spurting over her white hair. Cassandra, Varric and Solas just joined the scene, done with the others. Mahariel jumped back on her feet, wiping the blood away. She stretched her neck.

"All clear."

She went to loot the corpses. Varric spoke low, to no one in particular, before joining her.

"That was an assassin move, right?"

Cassandra gave a nod with a deep frown. She – they – had decided to trust Mahariel. Still, she was not really comfortable with knowing the white-hair could took down a templar in heavy armor on her own, without an injury. They better keep her on their side. Solas' features remained unreadable as he processed.  _Not the Vir Tenadhal then, the Vir Banal'ras. How peculiar…_

The sun was already almost down when they came near the farms. As they crossed a waterway, Mahariel felt the tingling in her hand. Great, because they didn't have had enough demons for the day. She narrowed her eyes towards the faintest green glowing behind the rocks. The others followed her gaze and drew their weapons.

They didn't even reach the rift that the four of them were on the ground, a terror threatening them from above. Mahariel gritted her teeth.  _Being taken aback is awfully unpleasant_. Her eyes widened and she rolled on her side, bumping into Cassandra to avoid the claws reaching for her chest.  _Okay, random thoughts for later._  Cassandra raised her shield above both of them for the second assault. Pushing the terror away, she stood, giving Mahariel a chance to do as well. She disappeared in stealth and dived her blade into the terror's legs. It growled at her and shoved her away. Cassandra let out a war cry, charging with her sword. It bounced on the too-thick scales. Mahariel scanned the area. An anger demon was rushing towards the both of them with shadows. She spotted Varric and Solas.

"Watch out!"

She drew a barrier around them before the freezing spurt touched them. They moved out of reach quickly. She lowered her head to avoid the burning of the anger demon.

Solas looked at her with disbelief once more. She seriously had to stop putting barrier around anyone but her when she was surrounded. He drew a barrier around Cassandra and her.

Varric loaded a handful of bolts into the shadows. They turned towards the dwarf and elf. They exchanged a look. Solas sent energy barrages and fade-walked through them, chilling them. Varric finished the work with an explosive shot. Mahariel and Cassandra were busy with the terror, having a hard-time dealing it damages. The Herald noticed the shadows fading.  _So, the easy ones are down. Now, what is this freakin' flying thing?!_ The said thing gave a high-pitched scream. Both elves reached instinctively to cover their ears. For them, the sound was unbearable. The despair demon took on its advantage, aiming his spurt of ice at Solas. Mahariel tried to stop it with a winter grasp, without effect. The apostate nothing but flew several feet away on the ground.

"Solas!"

Mahariel rushed towards him.  _Venhedis, no ice magic against this._ The terror tackled her. The anger demon came way too-close to Varric. The dwarf yelled as it burned him fiercely. Mahariel disappeared into stealth. The terror didn't insist, more interested in Cassandra. It disappeared under earth and came back under the seeker, putting her on her rear. The despair demon screamed once more and began to attack Varric.

Mahariel looked at the scene with gritted teeth. Fuck. The others were more or less knocked out, she could not do anything out of stealth against these things, and, in stealth, they would reach her companions and do a lot more than knocking them out. The despair demon was already flying back to Solas. She whistled loudly attracting every demon attention.  _Er, that wasn't the point of –_

She jumped on the side, avoiding the ice. Dammit. She focused to summon a fireball. Fire wasn't her strongest point, but better an average fireball than a powerful winter grasp against it, that had been made clear. She could hear the birds repeating the whistle.  _Tell me they are not far, I cannot keep at it long._  The anger demon grabbed her wrist. She froze it, running away. The terror shouted. Her face tensed.  _Is this a new game of these blooded things?!_

"El'las'in, what – Oh fuck!"

The brown-hair elf arrived with a handful of others. They drew their weapons immediately. Mahariel sighed with relief, ignoring the harsh pain in her wrist.

"Someone, get Inquisition scouts!" She paused, glancing at her party. Fuck. The elf caught the glance and took over.

"Kira, make sure these three are knocked out!"

"Got it!" Mahariel nodded.

"Oran, keep them distracted, I'm going to weaken them!"

The brown-hair nodded, launching arrows at the despair demons. With the five extra elves, the demons had a hard-time deciding where to attack. Mahariel made her way to disrupt the rift. The despair demon fell with the blast of energy, but another terror and shadows came through.

"Vishante kaffas!"

She leapt around, putting ice mines on several spots. She fade-walked through their opponents, taking down the shadows with her blade on the way. Her agents had the upper hand on the two terrors remaining. She froze the anger demon. Oran sent an arrow, exploding it. She sent daggers to help with the terrors. When they finally fell, Mahariel held her hand to the rift. It flashed closed. She sighed and put a spell on her eyes for them to appear grey before turning towards the elves, wiping dark blood from their clothes. She spoke with her strongest Tevinter accent.

"Everyone alright?" They nodded. She looked at the dark-hair named Kira "And them?" Asked se with concern, eyeing Cassandra, Varric and Solas.

"They are good for a headache. Except from that, the dwarf has a nasty burn, the elf a broken shoulder, the human, I cannot say with the armor." Mahariel nodded, making her way to check on them.

"Good. Thank you." Oran nodded slightly and asked.

"How did you know we were there?" She shrugged with fake ignorance.

"Considering the last orders, I thought it possible you'll be keeping an eye on things."

"Touché. Speaking of, I was told to transmit you –"

They all spun towards the rushed footsteps approaching. They exchanged a nod and the five elves disappeared into the shadows, leaving Mahariel alone. She suppressed the spell on her eyes and kneeled next to Cassandra, trying to figure out more. Scout Harding arrived with others, running.

"Herald! A farmer told us he heard screams and thought you were in trouble!" Mahariel stood, pointing her companions.

" _I_  am alright" She continued to go from one to another. She knew their lives weren't at stake, but still. Harding came next to her.

"We have a position secured next to the farms. It isn't far. Can we move them without risks?" Asked she, worried.

"Yes."

* * *

Mahariel spent the next hour preparing a bunch of poultice and potions. Her healing skills being what they were, she had learnt to offset them with good notions of herborism. For Varric and Cassandra, it will be enough. For Solas too, except the fact they had to put the bone back into place before going on with anything to quicken the process. As Harding and the scouts were taking care of the Seeker and the dwarf, Mahariel took a deep breath. Better doing it while he was knocked out, the process wasn't exactly painless. She put a firm hand on his shoulder and took his arm in the other.  _Okay, easy. One, two –_

She avoided barely a fierce head-butt as he yelled with pain and his head jerked up. She looked at him with surprise as she exclaimed.

"By the Void, ir abelas, lethallin! I thought you were still out and wouldn't feel it!" Solas blinked several times, trying to figure out what happened and to have his vision back to clear.

"Mahariel?" She bit her bottom lip, eyes wide and apologetic.

"Yes?"

"How – What…"

"The rift. You have been knocked out and you broke your shoulder." He frowned, trying to remember. Yes, the despair demon. They were in an awfully bad position. He remembered Varric screaming and…And not a lot besides that. Harding's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Herald – Oh Messere, happy to see you are awake too." Solas repeated.

" _Too?_ "

"It is what I was coming to tell the Herald. Varric and Cassandra are awake."

"We were all knocked out?" Mahariel shrugged.

"Demons fight dirty."

"You finished them by yourself?" Asked he with a mix of disbelief and respect. She didn't answer, turning towards Harding.

"Thank you. I'll go see them as soon as I'm done here."

Harding nodded and went back out of the tent. Mahariel put her hand on his shoulder, palping for the position of the bone. She sighed with relief. At least it was back in place, she didn't have to do another nasty manipulation. Her tone was neutral as she spoke, even if a sparkle of worry remained in her eyes.

"How are you feeling? How is your head? You did an impressive fall." He stared a bit too-long into her bright eyes, still unnerved.

"I'm fine, thanks to you. How did you manage to finish this fight?" She stepped back with a Grand-Game smile and winked.

"It will take more than breaking your shoulder to get my secret moves out of me, lethallin."

He narrowed his eyes, trying to go through her unreadable features. He was unsure how he was feeling to the idea of owing her his life. Unpleased, yes. But a part of him remained impressed. And surprised. As much as he considered he could have handled the Crow himself, he had to admit reluctantly he couldn't have escape alone this time. He finally settled for a smirk. He could play just as much as she.

"I shall try something else, then." She laughed lightly and stood.

"I'll go check on the others. If you need anything, just scream."

She came out of the tent, giving some indications about the poultices to a scout. She checked quickly with Cassandra and Varric.

They didn't go to talk with master Dennet before the next afternoon, time for poultices and such to take effect, and for them to take some proper rest.

* * *

Mahariel leapt backward to avoid the assault of the terror.  _Not again, freakin' thing_. A wolf immediately jumped on her. Her nose wrinkled. She hated fighting animals. She was not used to them attacking her, her few ranger skills keeping them at bay, usually. She shoved it fiercely, looking at the others.

"Focus on the terror!" A bolt arrived right into the wolf's side as she spoke. Diving her blade into the terror, she raised a brow at Varric.

"You said  _focus_ , Grey, not  _ignore the teeth in your legs!_ " She chuckled faintly.

"You'd disregard that one."

"Guilty."

Cassandra bashed the terror with her shield. Solas froze it. Mahariel sent two knifes into it and Cassandra gave the deathblow. As it faded, Mahariel spoke in a low voice, preventing the others to make out her words.

"Atisha, da'fen. Tel'nuvenin nua na."  _Peace, little wolf. I don't want to hurt you._

She jumped on the side to avoid the attack. Okay, that didn't work. Solas peeked at her with surprise. He was the only one with a hearing sharp enough to hear that. One way or another, the only one able to understand. What was she trying to do now? Well, to subside the wolves, yes, but that was peculiar for a Dalish. Weren't they cursed animal?

"Grey, if you are done talking, could you lend a hand?"

She groaned with frustration. Not that she could do a lot more. She disappeared into stealth, blade popping in and out of the shadows, giving clean blows to the animals. The pack was little and it was no big trouble for the party to get rid of them. As Cassandra sheathed her blade, she pointed out.

"The fur could be useful for the refugees."

Both Mahariel and Solas' noses wrinkled the slightest. She suppressed a sigh and finally nodded. She took few steps towards a corpse, aside from the rest. She kneeled in front of it, whispering.

"Ir abelas, da'fen. Falon'din enasal enaste."

Solas frowned at the other side, as much to the prayer than to the whole thing. Definitely strange. He finished with the wolf in front of him and settled for asking. He took few steps towards Mahariel. Sadly, she stood at the same time with her loot, glancing at the whole party. She was obviously in not such a good mood. Seeing everyone was done, she ignored the obvious desire of Solas to talk to her.

"C'mon, we have a druffalo to find." She took the way out of the den as Cassandra grunted.

"You can't be serious."

* * *

The end of the week went quietly. The atmosphere between the elves had smoothened with the incident of the rift and the banters were harmless and easy-going. Mahariel was, however, mainly talking with Varric as the two rogues were walking ahead to scan the different areas for traps. They cleaned the Mage camp, brought back food and blankets for the refugees, closed a bunch of rifts, recruited few agents, help random people the best they could.

Mahariel often turned to Cassandra for her agreement when something was asked from her. The Seeker seemed to appreciate the concern for her opinion, yet, she was as aware as Solas and Varric that the Herald was the leader of their little party. By the beginning of Guardian, the suspicion towards the – supposed – Tevinter Herald had mostly faded. They had sent scouts and soldiers to build the watchtowers asked by master Dennet. The horses he had already provided generously to the party had been of great help.

The party was back in the crossroad. They had been informed the watchtowers were finished. They were to go back to Master Dennet the day after. Then, they will venture back to Haven. Cassandra and Varric were talking with Caporal Vale, to make sure every urgent matter had been taken care of. The two mages were, meanwhile, away but still nearby the hamlet. They were making a stock of potions, mist and poultices to provide the refugees, as they had noticed the crossroad was in lack of healers. They had found no one yet to fulfill this task.

Solas eventually noticed Mahariel had been stretching her hand since the last rift. Since the concoctions were to rest a time before being put in the flasks, he offered her to take a look. She looked at him suspiciously but finally accepted. Her poor healing skills were doing no effect and her hand was feeling as if it had been stabbed. Examining her hand, he spoke up.

"A question if I may, lethallan?" She snorted.

"Only one? I'm surprised. You do wonder a lot, Solas."

"You are a difficult one to figure out." She smirked.

"You keep saying that while one doesn't know more about you than about me. Likely even less. An answer for an answer?" He looked up from her hand.

"Why?"

"I could ask the same." She actually did wonder the same. What was with these people and their endless questioning. She was willing to help; couldn't that be enough? He smirked faintly.

"What do you want to know?"  _Well, something you would actually answer._ He informed her with a glance he was done with her hand. She took it back and stretched it, happy to see the pain had effectively faded. She gave a look to the potions and, noticing they were still far from ready yet, she went on with the talk.

"Ma serannas, lethallin. I have always been poor healer. So, what made you interested with the Fade?"

At her surprise, he gave her a true answer, explaining the village in the North he was born in had not a lot to offer to a young mage. The Fade was a place of wonder for him. He treasured his dreams, exploring the mysteries of this place. She heard again the romantic sensibility of their discussion in Haven.

"I'm surprised you woke up."

He explained at some point he could not found new areas of the Fade anymore. First, because the Fade reflects your surrounding area, second, because it is limited by one's imagination. When he finished his second explanation, she replied earnestly.

"I wish you luck." His lips curved slightly. The absence of the judgement of the close-minded he had found in this world was still refreshing. She was genuinely interested in his studies, he could see it in her eyes.

"Thank you. In truth, I've enjoyed exploring more of life to find more or the Fade." She looked at him questioningly.

"How so?"

"You train to flick a dagger or an arrow to its target. The grace with which you move is a pleasing side benefit. You have chosen a path whose steps you do not dislike because it leads to a destination you enjoy. As have I." She smirked and pointed out with mischief.

"Are you suggesting I'm graceful, lethallin?" His face remained serious.

"No." He was satisfied to see he broke her mask, even for barely a sec as her nose wrinkled the slightest. He smirked and resumed. "I'm declaring it. It was not a subject for debate."

A smile and a blush threatened her features as the most ridiculous sound she had ever made crossed her lips. She muttered it quickly, bewildered.  _What the hell was THAT?! An assassin doesn't giggle!_  Damn, she had been beaten at her own game on this one. She managed to hide the too-genuine smile with an appreciative smirk of his skillful answer.

"I shall indulge you with less stealth, then."

He had to admit she was back to her mastery with honorable quickness. It did not lessen his satisfaction. And appreciation of his effect. Managing to fluster a beautiful woman was always appreciable. This little giggle was ridiculously adorable and a too-genuine warm smile was menacing his lips as well. He answered quickly to prevent him to lose the slight advantage he had gained.

"I believe you owe me an answer."

"I do, don't I? Ask away."

He found himself appreciating this exchange beyond the fulfilment of his curiosity so, he actually hesitated. He wanted first to ask about her being Dalish but knew such direct question would bring her back on the defensive. He was strangely reluctant to see this exchange end on a tensed note.

"You don't want your history to be readable. Yet, you bear witness of it inked in your skin. Why?" He could not say, considering her unreadable face, but she was pleased by the question. She considered it a time before answering.

"One was not my choice, one I asked, the others were offered as gifts. A tattoo is a powerful sign of respect, appreciation, of belonging. Despite the insights they give, I accepted these gifts gratefully because they are the most meaningful one can give to another. An indelible link saying  _you are and will always be a respected one to us._ Such demonstration of respect should be honored."

"A respected one, not a friend?" She shook her head.

"Take the banner of Par Vollen. The gift does not mean we will never be on the opposite side of the battlefield. It does not mean the best interest of my people will never push me to fight the Qun. It means that I will always be a Basalit-an, even if I may not always be a Kadan. Me accepting it means I will always respect the Qun, as much as a foe as I did as an ally."

"So, vallaslin were no choice, Par Vollen was gift. Is it the Imperial dragon or the Crows you asked for?" She raised a brow.  _He did not see the one in my back after all. Good, hard to explain._ She looked away with a lopsided smile.

"What make you think I have only four?" He nodded.

"Point taken. Still, isn't it complicated as a spy?" She shrugged.

"Not that much. Look, people think I'm Tevinter, as you thought first I was Qunari. War-paint can do much and, if needed, I can cloak them. But magic is not the most reliable on, in this very case. If someone knock me out, it would as soon become inefficient. Or, if I enter a big fight asking for all my mana and I cannot sustain it anymore. No, I prefer war-paint or make-up for that."

"You know what you are doing, obviously." She smirked.

"Two compliments in such little time? Do you think flattery will help you catch up with Varric on the investigation duty? He has quite a head-start."

"You might be interested to know Cassandra actually called off  _the investigation duty_  after your little discussion the other day."

"Is that so? Why?" Both her brows raised up with bewilderment. He, however, didn't fall for it. If he was certain of one thing, it was that it had been a calculated move. He smirked.

"Asked she as if the seeker didn't conform exactly to her plan." She looked at him, feigning offense.

"What kind of horrible opinion do you have of me?" He scanned her features, disappointed to not find more on them than her mask. He finally looked elsewhere.

"I have a very high opinion of the spy and fighter you are, actually. For the person you are, I have none." She smirked but didn't answer.  _And it is going to stay that way._ "To answer, the seeker decided to trust you." Mahariel raised a brow and corrected.

"She decided to trust her  _Herald_. And you did not truly abandon the task, proof being this very discussion."

" _You_ assume quickly someone cannot be sincerely intrigued without further purpose." She smirked as she jumped on her feet.

"Said he as if he didn't ask  _why_ when I asked about him. I believe our preparations is waiting for some attention we shall not deny."

She took a step away but remembered his previous words and stopped. She added, face serious.

"I would appreciate you stop referring to the tattoo you call vallaslin, however." He frowned a bit.

"You do realize this is a lost battle? Adan saw them, a servant saw them." She shook her head.

"What proof do you have they are blood-writing? They are elven tattoos, yes, but vallaslin are more. More than a tattoo and a particular pattern, this is a ritual. How do you know this tattoo has been done by a Keeper with sacred ink?"

She paused and turned to him fully, face grim and eyes sharp. She moved to a Dalish accent to emphasize the statement she was making.

"Vallaslin are applied to a Dalish who becomes an adult. A "flat-ear" mimicking these lines  _does_   _not_  wear the blood-writing. He wears elven-pantheon-inspired-tattoo, at the best. For what  _you,_ Adan or this servant know of the Dalish, would any hide them? Vallaslin are part of the  _misplaced pride_  of the Dalish.  _We are the last of the People and never again shall we submit._ "

She had been careful to let the inverted comas known on the word flat-ear. As the word shemlen, she would not use it lightly. Not anymore, at least. Her mind was still thinking it more often than she wanted, but she could control her lips. The Dalish were using these insults too easily. However, she had nothing but spat  _misplaced pride_ , quoting him.

He looked at her with a deep scowl, feeling like he had been scolded like a schoolboy. She could say what she wanted,  _this_  was the very demonstration of a Dalish brat.  _We are the last of the People._ These recent elves had nothing of the Peop –

Her hand reached instinctively for her bow pendant and her voice softened a bit as she finished.

"No. A  _true_ Dalish would never hide them. Stop referring to them, lethallin. Have they ever been Vallaslin or not, I cannot be called Dalish. Don't put a target on the People to satisfy your curiosity."

She turned away, putting an end to this discussion. He remained bewildered a bit. His annoyance and irritation had not totally fled, but a good part had. Her tone was sad, nostalgic, almost…Pleading on her last sentences. Despite a voice whispering him not to fall for it, he couldn't help but. He had been so taken with making her confess she was Dalish, he did not realize his questioning was hurtful for her.  _You know what your kind think of her…_ What the hell happened between her and the People? He caught up with her as she was back to the poultices and talked softly.

"Ir abelas, lethallan. Wherever the truth laid, it is your own. I shall not have pried with such insistence."

She looked at him with eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. She composed her features swiftly and waved the thought without answering. Enough heart-to-heart for today, they had work to do.

* * *

Mahariel laughed whole-heartedly. If the sight of Varric and his pony trotting had been something, the face of the dwarf while galloping was priceless. She has slowed down her mount to let him a chance to catch up with them. Cassandra and Solas had a hard-time not laughing too. The curses of the dwarf punctuated the strides of the animal.

"Wonder of wonder, how does he even stay on it?" Asked she to no one in particular.

"I believe the credit is to the crossbow. It has entangled itself with the saddle." Pointed out Solas, the hint of a smile on his lips. They exchanged an amused look. Cassandra tried to remain serious.

"I'm afraid we will need to consider an extra day to make it to Haven if we are to be slowed down like this."

"YEAH GO ON, LAUGH AT THE DWARF! I'll remember it next time we are in a cave and you bump your head against the rocks!" Mahariel chuckled.

"You hate caves more than us."

"True." Confirmed Solas. Varric slowed down the mount with difficulty as he arrived next to them. He winced.

"When I told you to play nice, I didn't mean at my expense, you two!"

"You should be careful of what you ask for, then." Chuckled Mahariel. She raised both hands as the dwarf glared at her. "Easy, wait." She gestured towards him. He started a bit and settled on the saddle comfortably. He looked at her questioningly as she asked. "Better?"

"Weirdly, yes."

"What did you do?" Asked Cassandra. Solas answered first.

"The Herald surrounded Master Tethras with energy, forcing his balance to remain." He looked at her with an appreciative nod. "Well done." She smirked with a slight bow. Varric and Cassandra processed the explanation. The dwarf finally answered.

"Grey…" He paused and burst. "WHY DIDN'T YOU DO THAT A WEEK AGO?!" Mahariel laughed, making her horse spun on its heels.

"I wasn't going to play nice at the expense of my fun either!"

The horse broke into gallop, not waiting for any reactions. Cassandra and Solas didn't manage to suppress their laugh as Varric pouted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Da'fen: little wolf.
> 
> Falon'din enasal enaste: a prayer for the dead


	8. Val Royeaux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For additional translations, please check the end notes.

* * *

Mahariel stopped her quick pace when she caught a glimpse of the Chancellor standing with Cullen in front of the Chantry. Great. Just great. It was the second week of Guardian and they were barely back in Haven. She had stayed with the horse-master to show him the installations. Cassandra had a head-start on her and was likely already in the Chantry. She was tired from the travel. The afternoon was already late and she had but one wish: a bath, a diner and her bed. Okay, make that three wishes. Still. She wielded her best smile and walked with determination. The man snorted and nothing but spat his sentence when he saw her.

"And here she is. The supposed Herald of the Blessed Andraste." She bowed slightly.

"Chancellor. What a lovely surprise." As expected, a sparkle of surprise took his eyes as she addressed him with a sarcasm-free voice. She had had a hard-time managing that, to be honest. He looked at her from head to toe and his face turned red.

"A blood-mage in top of it all?!" She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"You are going from one prejudice to another with an eagerness which does your organization no good, Chancellor." Her calm seemed to piss the man even more. Leliana, in a tent nearby, heard her words and intervened.

"The Herald is right, Chancellor. Your attitude is insulting us all. This woman you called heretic and blood-mage is doing more to inspire respect to the Chantry than  _you_  are."

Mahariel glanced at her with a nod of thanks. Not so pleased to be doing anything for the Chantry, but she knew the words of the Spymaster were well-intended. Leliana had joined her on her right side and Cullen moved to stand by her left. The Commander looked at the Chancellor, adamant.

"We have more important things to do than discuss with him, Herald."

"Agreed. The hole in the sky won't fix itself, would it, Chancellor?"

She let the rhetorical question floating in the air as the three of them spun on their heels to enter the Chantry. Once they were in the building, Leliana looked at her, thoughtful.

"Keep this magnanimity, Herald. You will need it in Val Royeaux."

"Is that our next move?" Leliana pointed the War Room where Josephine and Cassandra were waiting for them.

"Let's discuss it inside."

* * *

Mahariel was not the first fan of this plan. Not that she was worried about the clerics. It was more the idea of putting a foot in the capital city of the Empire in bright daylight that was making her anxious. Before they take their leave, she sent a lot of birds for people to be ready for troubles.

She didn't let her tension be acknowledged. On the outside, she smirked and said she will do it if they wanted her too.

Cassandra, Solas and Varric accompanied her once more. The seeker had a harder time than her to mask her apprehension of the meeting. She took the time to speak more with the woman on the road. As she had pointed out, Cassandra was trusting her only because her faith pushed her to. She could gain of a less hostile relationship with her. Besides, she was curious to hear her side of how she saved the Divine.

And a side benefit of speaking with Cassandra, was seeing Solas' face knocked out by the endless avalanche of words of Varric. She liked the dwarf, always fun and easy-going. And she had no doubt Solas liked him too. But the apostate was obviously not used to have such constant waves of words and Varric was not easily shut off. She had an inside memo telling her she should really read the  _Tale of the Champion_  to keep up with all this. Besides the Arishok and the Chantry blowing, she didn't know much. Wasn't such popular book in Tevinter.

She talked some more with the apostate as well. She was likely as intrigued about him as he was about her. They did not have the same methods, but he was extremely secretive and a player as well. It made their discussions quite enjoyable in a less one-sided way than with Leliana. The Spymaster was a skillful bard, but her story was in the history books, for the most part. Solas, on the other hand, was a mystery. And, unlike Cassandra, he didn't only want to know. He wanted to figure it out. As did she. That made their relationship quite particular.

They made good time to Val Royeaux, arriving before the end of the month.

Mahariel looked at the pale cobblestones, the golden doors and statues. She suppressed a sigh.  _Here we go._  She was hiding her deep discomfort well that far. She could foresee so much ways for this to go bad. And she was sure she didn't even know half of them. Her reports had been clear about the presence of several Crows, including one in particular. An ambush was the best situation she could think of. Her hand was dancing above the hilt of her daggers.

She instantly leapt backwards when she felt a hand on her shoulder, daggers drawn and wrapped with fire. Cassandra's jaw dropped with bewilderment.

"Herald?" Mahariel winced, sheathing the blades back.

"Sorry."

"You are jumpy today, everything's alright?" Asked Varric. She scolded herself on the inside for the stupid reaction.

"I'm fine. Let's get done with it."

The scout who has been reporting, Cassandra, Varric and Solas exchanged a look as she walked, determined, towards the place. She turned right away, hiding into the shadows. Her back straightened as she realized she was clearly not supposed to do that. She hardly suppressed a tremor as she stepped into the daylight. Solas took few steps, avoiding carefully to touch her.

"Herald, do you need a moment?" She shook her head.

"I told you, I'm fine."

"You certainly don't seem so."

She frowned, scanning the area. Of course, she was not. For one reason or another, practically everyone in this place wanted her skin, and only half of them didn't know it. He discreetly drew a barrier around her.

"Better with this?"

A hint of a smile threatened her lips.  _Hardly, but nice try._  She took a deep breath and put her best Orlesian smile on her features.  _I'm not giving these clerics the satisfaction of thinking I'm afraid of_ them. She stretched her walked towards the golden Lions and mingled into the crowd.

That didn't go that well, as the clerics instantly acknowledged Cassandra's presence. All eyes turned towards them both, Varric and Solas slightly aloof.

She kept her calm for the whole exchange. She even managed to suppress her urge to laugh with the Lord Seeker intervention. That had been rich. Well, until he turned into some kind of self-declared tyrant. Cassandra was disturbed by the man's actions to the highest point. The crowd dispersed itself when the Templars made their dramatic exit.

She finally allowed herself to take a breath. Obviously too soon. The arrow stuck between two cobblestones few inches from her. A throwing knife already in hand, her eyes tracked its path, looking for the archer on the roofs. The barrier came back at full strength right away. She heard Cassandra's sword being unsheathed. Varric chuckled.

"Wow, calm down, all of you. Look, that's a message."

Mahariel narrowed her eyes. Oh. Right. She took the paper, going through it quickly. A hint of a smile took her lips. Red Jenny. That was actually a good surprise. Back in Denerim, she had done some harmless job for them. They paid well and the backfires were assassins-free. Something she could appreciate from time to time. That was worth investigating.

It was past dark when they reached the secluded courtyard.

They took down the few guards easily and entered a second courtyard. She avoided skillfully a fireball and looked up. Her nose wrinkled with annoyance.  _Err…Orlesian. Again._  With hands on his hips, he addressed her with smug.

"Herald of Andraste! How much did you expend to discover me? It must have weakened the Inquisition immeasurably!" She crossed her arms with disregard, not impressed the slightest. She wielded a thick Orlesian accent.

"Am I supposed to know you? Sorry my dear, I'm afraid you are not even worth a memo in the Inquisition's report." Varric muttered a laughter and Solas' lips curved faintly behind her.

"You don't fool me! I'm too important for  _this_ to be an accident! My – Where are you going?!"

Mahariel had shrugged and turned around, decided to leave this idiot by himself. Someone who wanted to hurt her, maybe, but not worth her time. She had enough enemies as it was, she had to put some kind of hierarchy among them.  _That_ was no priority. When she did not bother to answer, she could picture him jumping up and down as he shouted.

"Don't ignore me!" Varric laughed.

"Too late for that."

The sound of a man agonizing, however, stopped her steps and she spun on her heels to face the direction of the sound. A blond-haired elf was aiming the idiot. Mahariel frowned slightly, looking at the elf face. She spoke up.

"Just say  _what_."

"What is the – "

The arrow cut his words short. The short range made the shot particularly dirty. Mahariel rolled her eyes. Even more stupid than she thought. Not able to understand the simplest warning. The blond-hair looked at the corpse with disgust and walked towards the Herald.

"Squishy one, but you heard me, right? Just say – "She finally looked up to the Herald. Her eyes widened and she exclaimed "Andraste's tits, Mahariel?!" The white-hair shrugged and looked towards Varric, Cassandra and Solas.

"'Twould have lasted two months if I didn't tell you. Good to know." She turned back to the blond-hair and smiled faintly "Sera. Away from home, aren't you?" The named Sera seemed to still be processing.

" _You_  are the one who glows?! The Herald thingy?! Andraste's silver spoon, Shianni would never believe that! Hard to believe you are even alive! And…Maker, you are giving me a headache." Mahariel smirked.

"Happy to see you are well too. Care to tell me what's this about?" Sera shrugged.

"No idea. I don't know this idiot from manners. My people just said the Inquisition should look at him."

"So, Red Jenny, hum?"

"Yay. Should discuss later. Reinforcements comin'. Don't worry. Someone tipped me their equipment shed." She giggled "They got no breeches."

It seemed to be the cue of the said reinforcements since they arrived. Mahariel reached for her daggers, enflaming them with a gesture. She felt the protective magic falling on the five of them. She glanced appreciatively at Solas. Good thing he could summon a large barrier, she could keep her mana pool for what it was best at. She extended her sustained flaming weapon spell to Cassandra's sword. The five mercenaries fell easily. Sera giggled a bit more about her no-breeches strategy – the well-found of taking foe's breeches but not their weapons remaining a mystery – before she resumed.

"So, Herald of Andraste, hum?" Mahariel shrugged.

"Not my idea, you know." Sera snorted.

"Of course, 'tsnot. Too elfy for that." She looked at her from head to toe, noticing her actually not so  _elfy_  appearance "What with the vint-thingy?" Mahariel glared at her, indicating they were not alone with a glance. Sera resumed quickly, taking the hint, even if subtlety was not her main quality. "I mean, elfy, birdy, vinty, one never knows with you, innit? Oh, dragon tattoo! Nice! Er…Anyway, I'd like to join."

Mahariel suppressed a sigh. Sera had many talents, but she would make such poor spy. A wonder how she survived in Val Royeaux. She nodded.

"Okay." Sera beamed.

"Yes! I knew you could not have changed that much! Get in good before you're too big to like. That'll keep your breeches where they should be. Plus extra breeches because I have all these… You have merchants who buys that pish, yeah? Got to worth something. Anyway…Ah, this will be grand! I can stay with you, right?" Mahariel nodded.

"Of course. This is already dark and we have a room for the night and extra bedrolls." Varric took a step.

"Welcome Buttercup. So, there is a story here, from where do you know Grey?"

"From where does anyone know her you mean. Girl has a reputation – "

"We crossed paths years ago." Interrupted she with another glare. Sera tilted her head.

"End of story?" Mahariel suppressed a sigh again. That will not be easy.

"That  _is_  the end of the story."

"Yeah. Right."

"There is certainly a where." Pointed out Solas. Sera just looked at Mahariel, considering she might as well keep her mouth shut before saying something stupid. Mahariel looked at the mage.

"A city in the South."

"This is rather vague." She smirked.

"More than  _a small village in the North_ , I wonder?" Solas' nose wrinkled.

"Point taken." Varric glanced from one to the other, not sure how exactly she just shut his mouth. He looked at Cassandra.

"Has someone think to keep scores between them? I wonder how much she has ahead of him." Mahariel looked at her  _adversary_  with a nod of appreciation as she commented.

"Don't assume too much Varric. 'Tis more of a tight game than you think."

Solas smirked, appreciative of her fairness. True enough his  _points_  had not been made in front of an audience. Varric glanced once more from one to another, with a peculiar smile the elves did not quite place. Sera sighed with annoyance.

"Arrrh, elves."

Mahariel smiled faintly while the other looked at the girl questioningly. Should be interesting enough.

* * *

Mahariel sneaked out the chamber they had in the city. It was awfully crowded with the five of them and, on the top of it, both Sera and Varric snorted. Loudly. She jumped nimbly from the balcony and landed silently in the deserted street. The fact that the Crows didn't make a move of the whole day was only making her nervous. That they didn't out her in the middle of the marketplace, she could understand. That was between her and them, and they were pissed enough not to want the imperial guard to steal their kill. She actually hesitated. She finally bit her bottom lip. No. No back-up. Not for what she intended. If they didn't attack…She had to give a try to negotiations.

The city of Val Royeaux never slept. The streets were always enlightened, courtesy of the  _loyal_  mages. As any rich city, night was the part of the day when the most interesting things happened. The streets appeared deserted, but shadows were everywhere. The moonbeams were reflecting on the gildings sometimes revealing a foot or the end of a cape. That was the Val Royeaux she knew and was comfortable in. The Val Royeaux of the bards.

Mahariel was wearing a cape with a hood on top of her antaam-saar. She had wear her other armor for the day, the rest being in her pack. She had thick black leather gloves covering efficiently her mark. With that and the hood, any distinctive signs were hidden. Except for her bright blue-green lagoon eyes. If anything, she was quite sure it was what had driven the previous assassins. She had always been careful with her white-hair but she couldn't do a lot about her eyes.

Cloaking them with magic was as temporary as rudimentary. The only spell she ever found to do it was putting a magical layer on top of her eyes. Disturbing side effect being the filter it put on her vision. She was seeing the world in black and white when they appeared grey, in shades of orange when amber, etc. Not convenient at all. She was only using this trick when she ran into agents without her cape and hood to hide her identity, like she did after the rift in the Hinterlands. One way or another, their width was shouting elven.

She knew the streets, the alcoves where she could hide if the guards were coming nearby. She chuckled on the inside.  _Some things are not forgotten_. She hid in the lover's alcove near the dock before taking the stairs to go up. She looked up for the window and frowned. _Open._ She used the vines to climb and sneaked inside the room. Her eyes widened in front of the empty room.  _Oh shit._

She had no time to move when the rope began to press against her throat, choking her. The man clicked his tongue.

"So predictable, da'len." She mumbled, despite the pressure.

"Don't call me that." He pressed stronger.

"Oh yeah… _Herald_  is it now?" He chuckled without mirth. "I'm impressed. You have been many things, but the blessed Herald of Andraste? Did not see that one coming."

She wanted to answer but the air was too far from her lungs and her head was spinning. Her cry of pain died in her throat when he turned violently her wrist and broke it. He loosened the rope and kicked her on the knees. She landed on her four limbs, face red, tears filling her eyes as she coughed. The man turned around and grabbed a sword he pointed at her chin to make her look up. The Antivan elf's face was slightly wrinkled, his dark hair turning grey on his temples. On most of his face was the symbol of the Crows – the mask – inked. He spat on the tiles next to her and kneeled, forcing the hood away from her hair and features. He sunk his blade deep in her thigh. Her jaw gritted but she did not give him the pleasure of yelling. Instead, she raised her blurry eyes to him, keeping her voice firm.

"I came here to talk, Venicio." He shook his head with loathe.

"Too late for that. Lin'sul'lin." He waited before adding in a snort "Ashalan." He brushed the blade where her Crows' tattoo was. He pushed a bit the edge to draw blood.

They both started when the blade froze. A barrier fell around her. She did not question it and gave a head-butt which exploded the sword. She slid back and took a knife in her right hand, the one still working. She sent it in his shoulder fiercely. She turned around to see Solas on the balcony, preparing an icicle to throw in the Crow's throat.

"SOLAS, NO!"

With a gesture, she dissolved the icicle and, with the next one, froze the assassin's feet and hands to prevent any further attempts. Solas looked at her, bewildered, as her torso collapsed on the ground. He rushed to her side, seeing the marks around her neck and the blood around her. The Crow laughed bitterly.

"I see you found yourself another man-pet. Why am I not surprised? Harellan sa nu'vin, harellan uth." Solas frowned and looked back at Mahariel. There was nothing but sadness in her eyes. She sighed and looked at the mage.

"Solas…Can you…Leave us a moment?"

"Are you insane?! You need medical attention and this man was about to kill you!" The Crow snorted.

"Go ahead, kill me. I have nothing to tell this little bitch. If you were wise, you would not either."

Solas' hand formed a fist. Why was he so angry about someone insulting her, he did not know. Still, he doesn't want anything more than crushing this man and forcing apologies out of his mouth. Not necessarily in that order. Mahariel looked at Solas pleadingly, but he was not close to leave her side. She really did not want him to hear it. She didn't want anyone to hear any of this. She sighed and turned to Venicio.

"I'm not here to give you some vain apologies. I'm here to make a deal with the Crows." He snorted.

"That should be interesting. What make you think we care about whatever you have to say?" Her head was still spinning and she was closed to pass out.

"I will give you what you want."

"Meaning?"

"Me." Solas spun to her, eyes wide, but she ignored him and resumed. "You saw the Breach. If I die before closing it for real, the world will be swallowed. Let me do that, don't attack the Inquisition, don't attack anyone. If you do so, once it is done, I shall surrender."

The man paused a bit. A cruel grin took his lips.

"I would have accepted until yesterday, Ashalan. A pity I heard the most interesting thing earlier in a secluded courtyard. Oh, not much, barely a word. A name to be exact. So, no, I will do better. I will kill  _you_  now and, then, I will use this name to find the ones you pretend to pro – "

Mahariel gave a defeated nod to Solas. The mage's icicle went through the man's neck. It was a clean, painless death. She closed her eyes, a tear escaping them. Solas was looking at her. He was somewhere between lack of understanding, deep want to scold her and sudden need to comfort her. Her thoughts became even more blurry. She was about to speak when a violent cough chocked her. She looked down at her thigh and whispered with wide eyes.

"Poison."

* * *

Solas wielded his healing magic without results. Whatever poison had been used, it would need more than that. He forced himself to keep his calm in front of the passed-out Herald. He should have known she could only be running into troubles. She had been on edge ever since they stepped into the city. Her forehead was burning and the bleeding of her leg, not happy enough with not stopping, was turning dark. His magic could slow the effects but not more.

"Dammit, what the hell?!" He spun towards Sera behind him. Did she follow him or, like him, the Herald? No, not the Herald, she was untraceable, only the magic of the mark allowed him to find her. Why did Sera follow him – No, it was not the time to think about this. He looked at her.

"Assassin. He poisoned her. Go grab Varric and Cassandra. Now." The blond elf frowned and shook her head.

"No, better bringin' her there."

"I cannot climb down the balcony with her in the arms."

"'tswhy we're two, innit?"

He scowled but listened to her proposition. Considering she had nothing broken, Sera could drop her from the balcony – which was not too high, hopefully – for him to catch her. He agreed just a bit reluctantly. She was a light-weight, should not be too hard to proceed. And they had no time to lose.

Oran was looking at the scene with gritted teeth. Fuck. Why didn't she call for reinforcements before going to see  _him_  of all people?! He was worried, but he could do even less than these people. His eyes widened as Sera let Mahariel fell of the guardrail. He put a hand on his own mouth to mutter the yell threatening to cross his lips.  _Who does THAT?!_ Dammit, where did she find such bunch of idiots?! He was ready to intervene, few inches away from Solas. He contained himself as the apostate caught her. Okay, idiots, but not incompetent. Well then, better clean the room before anyone else does.

Solas suppressed a sigh of relief as he caught her. He resumed his healing magic right away, a sparkle of worry in his eyes. Sweat was dropping from her forehead. He stroked her hair behind her ear. Sera jumped from the balcony.

"Okay, Elfy, hand her back." He raised a brow at her. He quickly shook his head and broke into a quick jog.

"We have no time for this." Sera frowned but followed quickly.

They nothing but slammed the door, awaking Varric and Cassandra with a start. Both were about to yell at them when their eyes met the Herald and widened with fear. The sum-up was even quicker from Sera, repeating the two main words. Cassandra looked at Solas with distress.

"Can't you heal her?!"

"I'm afraid my magic won't suffice. I can slow it but not annul it." Varric intervened.

"How long?"

"Not enough to make it to Haven. It would take one week at the best."

"What about two days of hard ride? Can she do it?" The mage frowned.

"Where do you want to take her?"

"Ghislain. She got an invitation there from the First Enchanter of Montsimmard, remember?"

"That's a long-shot. We don't know what she wants with the Herald." Cassandra looked at them both, firm.

"Varric is right. A long shot, but the only one. No one here will help her."

No one dared say something else. When the Seeker began with  _Varric is right_ , it was meaningful enough.

They left right away the room. As they went for the horses, they sent Sera to clean the room in which the assassin was, to see if she could find what poison had been used. They run into some of Leliana's scouts – alarmed by the sudden rush – and Cassandra barked a bunch of orders. Clean the path until Ghislain and inform Leliana being the main point.

Cassandra and Solas fought some minutes about how to settle Mahariel on the horse. Cassandra, guilty as she felt, unwilling to let the woman on the horse of anyone but her. Solas trying to reason her, considering  _he_  was the one slowing the poison and, hereby, the one needing to stay the closest. And  _he_  could fight even with her settled in front of him. The warrior could not. Cassandra finally admitted herself defeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lin'sul'lin: blood for blood
> 
> Ashalan: daughter
> 
> Harellan nu'vin, harellan uth: (roughly) trickster/traitor one day, trickster/traitor always.


	9. Ghislain Estate

Mahariel grunted, her head dizzy. Her eyes blinked as she considered the ceiling above her, decorated with golden moldings.  _Hum, still not dead_. She coughed and gagged, still feeling the taste of the poison in her mouth.

"Good. You are awake."

She started and her head tilted up to lay her eyes on Solas, on a chair next the bed. Bad move. Her head spun fiercely and she was forced to put it back on the pillow.

"What – Where – Er…" She babbled as her thoughts had a hard time falling back into place. She heard a book being put on a furniture as Solas moved to sit on the edge of the bed, in her vision field.

"You have been poisoned by a Crow in Val Royeaux."

She opened her mouth but shut it right away, memories coming back. Venicio. And he was now dead. A sparkle of sadness jumped in her eyes but she chased it. Instead, she composed her voice.

"I owe you my life. Again. Ma serannas, lethallin."

"I would gladly say you are welcome, but the last time I said so, you apparently understood it was fine to make of it a habit." The irritation in his voice was palpable. Her nose wrinkled. Here came the scolding.

"Yes, it was stupid to go see a Talon of the Crows on my own. I gathered. I  _had_ to try."

"Try what? I heard the deal you offered him, remember?" She looked at him, calmly.

"I said once the Breach is closed. 'Tis the only thing that matters." He frowned deeper, having a hard time not yelling.

"You close the Breach, an arrow goes through your heart right away, and you are fine with that?  _This_ is your big plan? Are you so eager to give your life away?!" She snapped.

"Why do  _you_ care?! I am but a mean to an end. Once the Breach is closed, I'm useless to the Inquisition! Worst, I'm a danger to it!"

"Don't make yourself a martyr!"

"I don't, 'tis why I did not want an audience for this bargain! I won't let anyone else get hurt or worst for my mistakes. I was trying to do the right thing." Her eyes were dark and way too old for her face.

"How is giving your life to the Crows the right thing?!" She paused to find back some composure.

"You don't know what you are talking about."

"Maybe you could enlighten me, then." She looked at him, adamant.

"No."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed. She was insufferable. She swallowed and looked elsewhere. He finally noticed she was fighting against tears. Both his brows raised in surprise and he finally gave some thoughts to her words. No, she was not eager to give her life away. Whatever grudge the Crows had against her, it had been here for a long-time, he was fairly certain of that. The situation had changed when she became Herald. All eyes were now on her and she couldn't avoid them anymore. His features softened.  _She_ was _trying to do the right thing. To prevent others to be caught in her battle. She knew it will come to it and yet…She stayed. She stayed despite the promise of death it meant for her._

He never fully realized it until now. Not with the way she was acting, taking things lightly as it came. Pretending it was all a game. She actually cared, way more than she was letting see. Varric was right. He did not realize he had grabbed her hand in his. She cleared her throat, her voice firm and neutral.

"Did someone take care of the body?"

"Scouts did after us. They burnt it." Her nose wrinkled.

"Andrastian cremation is better than none."

"He called you Ashalan." She swallowed again, fighting for her voice to remain emotionless.

"Among other things."

She sighed and whispered a prayer he did not quite catch. She cared definitely a lot about someone who tried to kill her. They remained silent a time, both lost in their thoughts before she asked with a soft voice.

"Solas…Where are we?"

"Ghislain Estate. With the poison, we could not reach Haven in time. Master Tethras remembered the invitation of the Grand Enchantress."

The topic turning back to serious, his eyes glanced to his hands holding hers, seriously wondering how or when they ended up there. He dropped her hand with a bit of discomfort. She had a point earlier.  _Why_  did he care of what she planned for herself? As long as the Breach was closed, he should not.  _You care about what become of the Anchor. Yes, that is it. Once the Breach is closed, you may pursue your researches to salvage what power remains in her hand. In any case, she has been an unexpected element until now, and more than once in a pleasing way. Would that be so wrong to want her to remain alive? – You are not supposed to befriend these people, idiot, it will make what comes next harder._  Right. He was surprised not to hear a playful comment from her. Its absence discomforted him as much as it warmed him in a way he decided to disregard for his own sake. Her spirit was tired and out of witty words, that was the all of it. She sighed, cutting the dangerous train of thoughts.

"Hell of a first impression." He chuckled.

"I cannot say what Madame de Fer thought of it. She had been warned by the Inquisition's scouts so, her mask was the most perfect when we arrived." He saw a glimpse of alarm in her eyes as her hand reached for her face "Do not worry. I forbid them to remove the war-paint." Her features relaxed.

"Once more, I'm in your debt, lethallin."

She made a movement to straighten. He gently pulled her back on the pillow.

"Don't move. It is already surprising you woke up today. We were not expecting such effect before tomorrow. You need to rest." A sparkle of mischief jumped in her eyes and she smirked.

"You will have to keep me distracted, then." He gave a smirk of his own.

"An answer for an answer?"

"Deal."

She first investigated the how exactly she ended up here. Then, they talked extendedly about his travels in the Fade. He did not mind answering any aside questions, pleased as always by her curiosity on the subject. He was almost sure she was considering to ask him teaching her, even though her pride was in the way of such request. When it came to his turn to ask a question, he found himself hesitating once more. He had a lot, but he knew now any about the Dalish or the Crows will likely sadden her. Instead, he asked.

"Did you enjoy Tevinter?" She gave a lopsided smile.

"How do you know I indeed lived there?" He smirked.

"I suspect you did live in Orlais and Tevinter. Your plays are just too perfect for it to be otherwise."

"Fair enough. To answer, I enjoyed living in the Imperium. However, I would not praise the Tevinter way-of-life.  _I_  had a good life only because I am a decent mage. I cannot say I enjoy Tevinter as a whole. I cannot enjoy a country were my kind – where any kind – is enslaved."

"From you, I'm surprised you did not start a rebellion."

"The circumstances of my presence there prevented such deeds." He frowned slightly, thoughtful. What was she in Tevinter?  _If she had a decent life, not a slave, not a servant…An apprentice?_ He put suddenly two things together.  _Was she spying there on behalf of the Qun?_ He held that thought, considering it was no accusation to spill lightly, even if they had searched the room for any secret alcove and he had felt the magic precaution of a soundproofed bubble around them. Speaking of which.

"Let me do the soundproofing, lethallan, you need rest and a sustainable spell is no such thing." She raised a brow.

"Please, I could sustain a soundproofing bubble when I was eight, I will not bristle under such little effort."  _Eight?_   _Fenedhis, I was wrong about the why of her peculiar training._

"Why would your Keeper teach you such spell that young? An eight-years-old cannot have such secret to keep."

She actually almost fell for this one and prevent herself from answering in extremis. Damn, he was getting good at that. Instead she crossed her arms, a bit annoyed that he just  _had_  to come back to prying while they had a nice talk.

"Subtle, I will grant you that."

"Excuse me?" Asked he earnestly, not understanding her reaction. He then recalled his question and made amend quickly "Ir abelas, lethallan. I spoke up my thought, I did not mean to pry." She judged his features a time before her face relaxed and she dropped her arms.

"Okay." He raised a brow.

"That was unusually easy." She shrugged.

"You are no liar. Secretive, adept of half-truth and omissions, yes, but you do not lie."

"That sounds pretty much like you."

"Who said we couldn't have something in common?" She paused, lost in her thoughts a minute. " _La crème de la crème_ of Orlais." Finished she bitterly. He snorted, just as much bitter.

"An  _harellan_."

"I have been called that too. Despite everything, better an harellan than an Orlesian." He had to laugh at that.

"Considering, I thought you like the Empire."

"The Empire is its own person and its inhabitants merely decorations. One loves the Game as much as he despises its players."

"I'm sure the Spymaster would agree." She laughed lightly.

"Certainly. Orlais held the most perverted of the delights. Outmatching your enemy with the right word in the right ear, seeing him fall by your deeds when you are two cities away, pretending to dance at the music of yet another noble…" She hummed appreciatively "You know you will lose and the Game will go on. But the time when you are leading the dance…Such overwhelming headiness."

"You sound like a bard." Pointed he out with a slight curve on his lips. He had himself experienced and enjoyed the overwhelming headiness she was describing. He understood the feeling she was trying to share. The machinery of the power always remains the same.

"Don't expect me to sing, lethallin. All of that to say, I appreciate the Empire and the Game but call me Orlesian and I will punch you." He chuckled.

"I shall keep that in mind."

They fell into a comfortable silence until Mahariel asked him if he could send her Sera. He had been expected the request, and was more than a bit proud to see he had been able to make her forget so long…Well, now that he thought of it, it had likely never left her mind and she simply did not want to seem too eager.

* * *

Sera listened to her words with caution. Easy enough, do not answer any questions about her and how they met.

Mahariel was sixteen when they did, in Denerim. She just left the Clan and ended up in the Alienage with no idea how to live in the shem world. Shianni, the leader of the Alienage, helped her through rough beginnings. Her assassin and hunter skills eventually proved useful for some little jobs she traded for food.

Simply surviving until the Captain of the Guard provoked Shianni's as well as her ire. The bastard attacked and raped a young elven woman. Infuriated, sickened, Mahariel took care of the man with talent, without driving the attention on the Alienage.

It drove, however, the attention of a Crow, Ignacio, on her. The talent of the elf was unquestionable and they needed people like that, out of their own ranks, for some contracts. It is how it all began.

She eventually ran into Sera during a contract. The beginnings between the elves being less than easy. The blond was as old as she was. Despite Mahariel's  _elfiness_ , Sera came to appreciate her.

The Dalish shared her gold and food whenever she could within the Alienage. She was helping the people there for free. Except from her few jobs for Red Jenny and her work with the Crows, she worked with Shianni to put together spying units with the elves of the Alienage, training them. They extended the reach of their eyes and ears among the city. They collected pieces of information, selling them to the highest bidder among the humans to improve the life-quality of the Alienage. Mahariel shared the most interesting ones – especially the ones about displacements of forces – with the clans. Her growing network helped both the city elves and the Dalish to avoid troubles efficiently.

Mahariel left Denerim after a year, however, heading for the Empire. The situation in Orlais being far worse than in Ferelden for the People, the clans asked her to pursue her task there. Sera crossed path with her again two years later, as Mahariel had accepted to help the Friends sneaked into an estate. Sera, despite her young age, was already a veteran among Red Jenny.

And it was where Sera's knowledge of the tale stopped. She knew the organization she worked with. Her bet was that the Dalish was one of its lieutenants.

The rumors were well spread, but no one never knew in Ferelden where the truth of this organization's deeds laid, and the faceless leader of said organization was more of an urban legend than anything else.

"So, what do they think exactly?" Mahariel shrugged.

"For the close circle of the Inquisition, the general point is that they are not sure where to place me. They get that I'm not Qunari, few consider the possibility of me being Dalish. For the rest of the world, the general idea is that I'm Tevinter."

"I dunnot get how ya do that, I have a headache only thinkin' how your life got that messy. Why are the birdies after ya? You were thick as thieves last time I knew!" Mahariel shook her head.

"'Tis a story I shall not share." Sera pouted.

"Not funny. Hey, I did not ask before becauz' poison all that, but, why was elfy number two followin' ya?" Mahariel's nose wrinkled.

"Curiosity, I guess. Considering his prying saved me, I thought I could forgive it. What is troubling being not that much why but how. However, why did  _you_  follow him?" Sera shrugged.

"Not as discreet as you're. I heard him swore in elfy talk after a failed landin'. First, I was goin' to punch him for wakin' me, then I saw  _ya_  were not in the room either." She giggled and moved suggestively her brows "I was hopin' to catch som' juicy things." Her eyes enlightened and she cackled "Ah-ah  _juicy things_ , got it?"

Mahariel winced, sincerely wishing she did  _not_  "get it".

"Classy as always. Well, here we are, in an Orlesian estate. Wonder of wonder, what did you imagine to piss off these  _silky breeches_?"

It was enough for Sera to drop the subject as she launched herself into a very detailed explanation of what she intended for this  _Madame de Fer_.

* * *

She was on her feet the next day. After a bath, she was notified Madame de Fer wanted to meet her for brunch.

Cassandra, Varric, Sera and Solas were with her, waiting for the Grand Enchantress in a part of the estate when another guest spotted them and addressed the Herald in an unpleasant way. She considered him with an unreadable face but felt the others straightened as he threatened her. She held her hand to Cassandra, the closest to her, who had already her hand on the hilt. She whispered.

"Hold on." The four of them looked at her without understanding. Mahariel crossed her arms without looking at them and added "Wait for it."

And indeed, they did not have to wait long before Madame de Fer made her entrance,  _saving the day_. Mahariel told her graciously to let the  _Duke_  go. Vivienne nodded and dismissed the silly little man before going on with proper introductions. After few words, she offered her elbow to Mahariel.

After a quick talk in which Vivienne did not stop to praise the delight she was with such wonderful manners, the Grand Enchantress came to her point: she wanted to join.

The matter was settled quickly and they came back to the others to share the promised brunch. Once Vivienne took her leave, Cassandra turned to Mahariel, eyes sharp.

"Herald, you should not take lightly threats on your person." Mahariel looked at her and, seeing she was serious, she could not help but laughed lightly. Seeing the frown taking the woman's features, she held her hand in apologies.

"Sorry Cassandra, 'tis just, there was not a single threat."

"But the man – "

"Was doing his job. This kind of heroic entrance is prepared.  _The Game never ends_."

Realization was readable easily on Cassandra and Sera's face, while Solas and Varric were smirking. They did not see the play as quickly as she did, but her whisper made information hit home. Cassandra finally mumbled with an exasperated noise.

"Errrr…Orlesians…I don't understand why you did not confound the Grand Enchantress about it, considering." Mahariel laughed again.

"'Tis not how it works, Cassandra. No, the  _Duke_  likely being a bard, I could hire him for some event she would attend and pointed out how talented the minstrel is. Her nose would wrinkle half a second and  _that_  is the victory. Imagine the tragedy of Madame de Fer losing her composure face to a Tevinter elf. Outrageous." Cassandra looked at her, unnerved.

"You can't be serious."

"'Tis Orlais, Seeker. Besides, I shall not confound her as a courtesy, at the least. Without her healers, I would be dead."

" _That_ , at least, is something I can understand."

"I suspected as much."

* * *

Mahariel grabbed her cape and sneaked out of the little room. As they were to take their leave quickly, it had make sense to the others than she asked for rest that afternoon. She put on a cloak, looking gingerly around. If anything, she was expecting a bard nearby. Nothing personal, but Madame de Fer wouldn't have raised to her position without a mastery of the Game. She had taken a glimpse of the elf while they were in the Garden. Except for a short exchange of letters, she hadn't had a chance to see him since the Hinterlands. Besides, she was curious of what he was doing here. Ghislain was not part of his last dispatch.

She found her way to a secluded part of the castle. She was aware she was followed but was certain enough it was precisely by the person she wanted to see. It didn't take long for the brown-hair to appear once she untriggered her cloak.

"My Lady." She rolled her eyes.

"Hello to you too, Oran. Why are you here?" He raised a brow.

"I tend to follow when I see you passed out and poisoned. And it happens to be easier to do since you are the Herald. However, harder to catch you alone. I gather this  _plan_  of yours with Venicio didn't work?" She pursued her lips.

"One can say that." He shrugged.

"I don't know what you had in mind, but for once, I'm relieved it failed. We should have dealt with him long ago."

"He was a good man, Oran."

"Was. He became mad with revenge the second his son died." Her nose wrinkled the slightest.

"No point in discussing this. What are the news?"

"We got some displacements plans from the templars. The reports for the clans are here. For now, the opponents of the Inquisition are spitting on Tevinter. Few words about Dalish. Your Spymaster and Ambassador are handling them. Our people heard a lot lately. Everything is in here, as well as the list of the ones ready to pay for it. You also have a letter from the Imperium and something interesting I salvaged before the Inquisition in Venicio's room."

"Good. Thank you, Oran. My apologies for making you play messenger. As you pointed out, it is hard to catch me alone, even for the birds."

"It is no trouble, my Lady."

"How many time do I have to tell you to drop this title?" He smiled faintly.

"How many times you want. Except if circumstances make it necessary, I shall disregard."

She suppressed a sigh and stretched her hand to get the reports he mentioned. She read them quickly. She will have to send few letters to the Clans for these Templars displacements to make sure they avoid them. She took a look at what he found at Venicio's.

* * *

_Talon Venicio,_

_No one has confirmed what you affirm about the one they call Herald of Andraste. However, that being true or not, I have contacts confirming that this elf is the only one who has proven able to close these rifts. The Crows are no fools, don't let your grudge blinds you. I hereby forbid you or any of your men to attempt on the Herald's life as long as there is a hole in the sky, whatever her true identity is._

_I won't say it twice._

_-I_

* * *

"Oh."

"One person is clear-minded in the Guild, at least."

"Ignacio has never been a fool. Good to know he is temporarily on my side."

She pursued her lips. It was why nothing had happened of the day in Val Royeaux. If she had not come to Venicio, he'd have stayed in place. He'd be alive.  _Maybe, but you heard him. He knew your name. He could have tracked the Clan, Analen, Linril. Don't be a child, he had to die._ Right.

She broke the Imperial seal of the second letter.

* * *

_Apprentice,_

_One of the servant informed me of your current situation. I appreciate the discretion of not contacting me directly, considering._

_I have no suggestion for the time being if not, be careful. The debates about what happened in the South are heated in the Magisterium. Some of my countrymen seem particularly out of their mind, to be honest. Alexius is acting very strange. You should ask Felix, maybe will he answer to you._

_I wish you luck._

_Eventus_

* * *

She frowned deeply. She doesn't like the sound of  _magister out of their mind_ and _acting strange_. Especially from another magister. If one of them thought that, the man had to be plotting something really big. And bad. Yeah, likely bad. Oran looked at her, waiting to know if she will share or not.

"I want our people to keep an eye on magister Alexius. I'll see in the reports if there is anything we can trade for insights."

"Consider it done. Anything else?" She shook her head.

"I want you to go back to your previous assignment. I won't need close protection for now. Direct the messages to the cache in Haven. For the urgent ones, I'll manage to catch them."

"As you wish."

"One more thing: were you there when I went to Venicio?"

"Yes. I, however, was there too late. I only followed when the blond elf got out, intrigued." She frowned.

"So, you didn't see  _me_? I didn't miss anything?"

"As always, my Lady." She bit her bottom lips.

"How the hell did he follow?" He looked at her, apologetic.

"No idea. Mage thing? The mark on your hand, maybe?"

Yes, the Anchor, that had been her thought as well. Weird. It didn't seem like every mage was able to sense it…Not that she crossed path with so much. And she definitely didn't take the time to ask the apostates of the Hinterlands if they  _felt her coming_. Maybe because he studied it extensively? She shook her head. She will have to find out. She might appreciate Solas, but anyone being able to track her that easily wasn't a thought she liked.


	10. On the way to the coast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! For additional translations, please check the end notes.

* * *

 

Solas actually hesitated once he was in his bed. He wanted to investigate whatever past Mahariel and Sera had. He had postponed the idea. Considering the poisoning, he had had other matters in mind. Now that this was dealt with…Two things were making him reluctant: he had still in mind what happened last time he did that and was no that eager to bumped into another  _wrong_  memory. Without forgetting how intruding it was. Last time he did it, he thought not highly of the Herald. Now...It was not the same kind of curiosity.

He finally settled to look for her into the Fade, maybe more in order to prove himself a point than anything else.

_Mahariel walked awkwardly into the Alienage. She hardly suppressed a sigh of relief when her eyes laid on the Vhenadahl. One thing that seemed not that wrong. She was wearing some loosened mercenary coat, too big for her thin frame. The skin around her vallaslin was reddish, as they were still young on her face. She withdrew awkwardly into the shadows, as all eyes were on her. She swallowed, unsure of what to do now. She started as a red-hair accosted her._

" _Hi there. You seem a bit uncomfortable." Mahariel composed herself and raised a brow at the flat-ear. Her short hair, her bare face, her yellow commoner dress. Her voice was neutral, but one could feel she was forcing it to be so._

" _I'm looking for a place to stay. I cannot afford the Inn in the Market District. The shems indicated me this place." She gave a look around and grunted "Can I know what is wrong with them? Why are they looking at me like that?" Shianni chuckled._

" _We haven't seen a Dalish around since the Blight. You can be thankful to be in one of the few Alienage where we are aware you people even exist. In other cities, you'd get more than odd looks. We have no inn, but we might be able to figure out something. Can you help the tailor? The carpenter?" Mahariel looked at her, dumbfounded._

" _I didn't follow June's path."_

" _What?"_

" _I said I – "_

_They were interrupted by a human yelling at a girl nearby._

" _What is wrong with you, knife-ear?!"_

_The girl swallowed and ducked her head. Mahariel didn't think twice, anger taking her features immediately. She closed the distance with a stride, cornering the man against a wall. He looked at her with wide eyes. She pointed a dagger at his throat and grinned._

" _THIS is a knife, shem. Maybe you get the difference better now."_

_Shianni looked at her, hesitating between laughing and stepping in. She reluctantly settled for the second and reached them. She put a subsiding hand on Mahariel's shoulder._

" _Okay there, everyone calms down." Mahariel shoved the hand away._

" _I won't let some shem call us that."_

" _I think he got it. Don't you?" She looked at the merchant. A vague commoner who likely peed his pants. He nodded eagerly. "Good boy. And you won't take this to the guards, will you?" He shook his head just as eagerly._

_It took more than that to ease Mahariel, but she eventually accepted to step back. The man nothing but flee the Alienage. Shianni's face turned grim as soon as he was out of earshot._

" _Now that you've done that, I hope you can kill someone discreetly." Mahariel seemed surprised a second before she smirked._

" _And here I thought you were stupid enough to trust his word, flat-ear."_

Solas considered the memory. Interesting. From what he could tell, he didn't believe Mahariel older than sixteen in it. And from the way she acted…She had barely left her Clan. Considering the red-hair's words, the city was Denerim. With the final battle against the darkspawns, they had indeed seen the Dalish march. It was not what he had been looking for, but, he believed it close enough in the timeline for the location to be accurate. So, Sera and Mahariel met in Denerim. Question was, as always with Mahariel, why was she making a secret of it? He wielded his focus to direct the pieces when he wanted.

_Mahariel was standing into a black corner on the first floor. She sighed, bored. This gathering did not seem to come to an end. She was wearing a black hood and cape. She was playing with a dagger between her fingers, summoning slight ice magic around it. She gave a small smile. She missed magic. Her ear flinched and she jumped on her feet as she heard footsteps._

_She frowned deeply at the red hood arriving with a bow towards her. She withdrew further into the shadows, waiting for the trespasser to pass by. But they did not. Instead, they did as she, withdrawing into the shadows. Which came to the result of them eventually bumping into her. She suppressed a curse and put swiftly her hand on their mouth. It was enough to keep them quiet, however, the red cape bit her hand._

" _Fenhedis, what's wrong with you?!" Asked Mahariel in a barely controlled whisper._

" _Wut's wrong with_ ya _?! 'Tis my party to mess and I don't know ya!" Sera turned towards her and rolled her eyes. "And you are an elf. Using words which aren't words." Mahariel raised a brow._

" _If you got a problem with me, you are more than welcome to get out before I kill you, flat-ear."_

" _Oh great, I just bumped into an elven Queenie."_

" _Pala adahlen." Sera winced._

" _Pffffffbhhhht." Mahariel snorted._

" _And I bumped into a twelve years old."_

" _The twelve years old uses words at least. Unlike ya, queenie."_

" _For the love of – "_

" _What is going on upstairs?"_

_The voice of the nobles cut them both in their catfight. They looked up a second, only to realize they were already sending guards._

" _Fenedhis."_

" _Crap! That's your fault!"_

" _Mine?! You are the one wearing a red cape, idiot!"_

_Mahariel grabbed Sera's elbow and they began to run._

Solas was watching the memory as activity around him caught his attention. He realized he might have stayed long-enough for Mahariel to become aware of the presence. He muttered a curse for his distraction and found his way-out quickly, disappointed to have no time to learn more.

* * *

One more day and they were leaving Ghislain. They had to pass by Val Royeaux once more on the road to pick up a merchant the Herald had recruited in the city.

On the way out of the city, they ran into the First Enchantress Fiona who invited them to Redcliffe. Vivienne – "loyal" mage that she was – nothing but disdain the woman. Mahariel glared at her to signify her it was not the time to let her opinion about the rebel mages known. She could like it or not, but it was no invitation to disregard. Being approached by either mages or templars was exactly what the Inquisition wanted.

The travel was interesting, to say the least. Sera and Vivienne were quite the duet. Not in a good way. Mahariel had a hard-time keeping her composure, the blond taking devious pleasure in hurting the good moral standards of the enchantress. She was staying close to Sera. Even if she had made clear what was or not to say, she'd rather be around to see how it went. Especially with Varric and Solas trying to trick her constantly into saying something. If Sera could not handle them, let alone what was to happen once face-to-face with Leliana. The blond was not such great match with Solas either. And he was not such great match with Vivienne. The few exchanges between the two mages ended up being particularly vicious.

By the first week of Drakonis, they were back in Haven.

The discussions between Leliana, Josephine, Cullen, and Cassandra were particularly heated during the next days. At first, Mahariel let them, considering the question was their decision to make. Still, she used the time they were arguing to learn more about the Mages-Templars conflict. And to take care of her own bunch of reports and headaches.

On the early afternoon of the third day since they had returned, another endless meeting was planned to discuss the subject. She was becoming quite pissed by these. There was no time for this.

She arrived at the door, fashionably late, in armor, Solas, Varric, and an unknown man on her heels. She slammed the door like she owned the place and declared, voice firm and final.

"Cassandra, you have half an hour to pack. Mounts are ready, we are heading to the Storm Coast. Then, we go to Redcliffe."

The jaws of everyone in the room dropped. Cullen growled, ominous.

"This is not your decision to make, Herald." Not impressed by the dark glare he was casting which usually flustered even his best soldiers, she answered.

"Well,  _someone_  has to take one, no? And you still have no insight about how to get in touch with the Templars." She glanced towards Leliana who remained still, confirming what she thought. "Good for you, the detour by the Storm Coast gives you some time to figure it out. Then, we go talk with the mages."

"You have no – "She snapped.

"Yes, I do!"

She took off her left glove and threw it on the war table. She held her hand bearing the Anchor. They froze. The green split had widened significantly and threatened to reach the back of her hand. Solas, most of all, seemed highly disturbed, not having noticed it before. She had been wearing gloves or gauntlets relentlessly for the last month. She resumed, voice menacing.

"I do because if I let you bicker, this thing will kill me before it closes the Breach. What is the most important Commander, to antagonize a bunch of mages or to prevent Thedas to be swallowed?" She glanced at the room with irritation and stopped on Cassandra "Remember what you said to the Chancellor?  _We will restore order with or without your help_. Guess what, I intend to do the same. Be ready to accompany us or stay out of my way."

She spun on her heels and took her leave, leaving everyone speechless.  _And now I need an agent to drop the name of Therinfal Redoubt somewhere around Leliana's people. Great_. She gestured to the unknown man to follow. She needed to discuss further with him the question of these mercenaries.  _The Iron Bull_ …That was a name she had heard and she was well-decided to place where and when. As they both made their way out and passed in front of the tavern, she stopped, gesturing to Krem to wait a sec. She came back but a handful of seconds later, pulling Sera by the hand.

"Wow, wut? Goin' somewhere?"

"Yeah, Storm Coast. I'm not leaving you here to be questioned. Half an hour, suit up."

Krem rubbed the back of his neck. He definitely didn't choose his day, or so it seemed. At least, she didn't yell at him. Yet.

Leliana, Josephine, Cullen, Cassandra, Varric, and Solas remained in the War Room a time before the dwarf spoke up.

"Well…Shit. Chuckles, did you know for her hand?" Solas looked at him with a frown.

"No. She did not mention it." Varric snorted.

"She has been known to do that. If she closes the Breach, will it help her?"

"This is possible. I…hope it will." Added he, truthfully. Leliana looked at them, the slightest sign of concern in her unreadable eyes.

"I never saw her like that." Varric raised a brow.

"She is dying, Nightingale. She has the right to be a bit pissed." Solas shook his head.

"I don't think it is that, Master Tethras." Cassandra nodded, looking worried as well.

"Agreed. The perspective of her death has always been here."

"And no emotional reaction." Confirmed Leliana.

"Didn't you mention your scouts spotted her with a messenger outside of the town earlier?" Pointed out Josephine. Leliana nodded.

"Yes. We wanted to intercept him but he disappeared as he had arrived."

"Shit, it must have been damn bad. Chuckles, Seeker, we should get going. She seems in desperate need of killing something and it's going to be us if we slow her down."

* * *

Mahariel groaned as her hand slid on a rock. Did it ever stop raining? She wasn't planning on staying here more than necessary, but she was not going to let these people down if there was any chance for them to be still alive. She had taken her boots off down the cliff to climb more easily. It was too hazardous for the soles to get any kind of grips. She finally looked down, irritated to see Solas and Cassandra didn't even start climbing.

"Are you following or what?" Solas frowned.

"Someone has to stay down to catch you when you fall, Herald."

"Herald, there has to be a way around this cliff."

"This will take a good hour of walk."

"Boss, I got the rush, but how are you planning to go down?" Asked Bull, few inches on her side. The Qunari was indeed a Ben-Hassrath, which explained why she had the feeling to have heard about him. Probably mentioned in some random report of Salit.

"Easy. If Solas condescend to follow, he puts a barrier around us and we jump."

"WUT?!" Exclaimed Sera.

"I don't like the sound of this plan at all, Grey!" She smirked.

"Wait for the sound of it if Solas  _does not_ condescend to follow."

Solas and Cassandra exchanged an exasperate look but did start climbing. Solas kept an eye up to at least put a barrier if something went wrong. Mahariel and Bull arrived at the top. She stretched her neck, giving a self-satisfied smirk to the mage. She lost her balance as an arrow brushed her shoulder. Bull caught her before she completely fell. She growled, ominous, turning towards the archer. She avoided nimbly another arrow, extending her hand to help Sera up.

"C'mon, these idiots interrupted my  _told you_  moment. I cannot tolerate that." Sera laughed.

"Got it, Queenie."

"I'm here, Boss."

The three of them charged into the new-found opponents. Varric, Solas and Cassandra, having no view of what was happening, sped up.

Mahariel looked at Bull, having suddenly an idea. The Blades of Hessarian were more numerous than them. She picked up the bow resting next to the corpse at her feet. She nocked several arrows.

"Bull, be ready!"

"For what?" Asked he, his axe dancing in the middle of their foes. She smirked, breaking into a sprint.

"Launch me!"

The three others peeked at her from the edge of the cliff with disbelief as Bull beamed.  _She cannot be serious_  was their shared thought. She rushed even quicker. Bull wiped a man on his feet, turning to face her. He squatted slightly. She slid nimbly her foot into his hands without losing her momentum. He launched her with force, reaching the trees' height. She spun in the air, releasing numerous arrows. They all found their target, cleaning the battlefield instantly as the Blades stared, ajar. Solas had but the time to find back his mind and to put a barrier before she hit the ground. She made a dramatic roll and ended with a slight bow. Bull guffawed whole-heartedly.

"Ha-ha that was GREAT! We need to do that more often, Boss!" They shared a high-five. The four others joined them, Varric and Sera laughing too.

"NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!" Yelled Cassandra at the Iron Bull.

"Agreed." Nodded Solas, looking at him just as dark as the Seeker.

"Eh, wasn't even my idea." Mahariel rolled her eyes, still laughing and full of adrenalin.

"C'mon don't be all grumpy you two." They both gave her a deep scowl. Varric intervened.

"Seeker, Chuckles, that was pretty amazing. Admit it." Mahariel waved the thought.

"Ignore them. Team fun, with me, we have investigations to lead! Let team spoilsport to their brooding."

She took Sera and Bull's elbows, gesturing to Varric to follow. The dwarf shrugged and conformed. Cassandra pinched her nose.

"At least, she is in a better mood."

"She could have killed herself in a dozen of ways." Pointed out Solas, irritated.

They caught up quickly with the rest of them. Mahariel's good mood didn't last. She entered a small house where laid Inquisition corpses. She frowned, looking around for clues about the men they just killed. She spun on her heels as soon as she found the location of their base.

"Herald, wait."

She turned towards Solas and looked at the paper he was showing her. Her nose wrinkled. Shit, she couldn't ignore that. She wanted revenge for their men, not to recruit this bunch of asses! Her teeth gritted as she nodded reluctantly.

"I'm sending a bird to the camp. They can make this amulet."

She conformed as they searched the Inquisition bodies for clues about these soldiers' identity. The least they could do was to inform their families of what happened. They settled into the small house, waiting for news about the crest they asked for. Despite the rain, Mahariel made her way outside. She climbed on the roof, taking deep breathes. She hated to wait. And that was all she had to do right now. Waiting for this crest, waiting for reports from Tevinter, waiting for a letter from Felix. It was unlike him not to write her back, but, considering the situation, she wouldn't be surprised if Alexius forbid him to. Cassandra peeked by the threshold.

"Herald, you are going to catch a cold." Mahariel raised a brow.

"Excuse me, when did you become my mother?" Cassandra rolled her eyes.

"Put your boots back, at least."

Mahariel's nose wrinkled but she took the said boots the seeker was handing. She, however, put them right next to her as soon as Cassandra disappeared back into the house. Bull and Sera eventually fell asleep after a good hour of waiting.

Solas exchanged yet another look with Cassandra, glancing towards the roof. She shook her head apologetically. Mahariel didn't move the slightest. Varric looked at Solas too and, as he did, glanced towards the roof. The elf looked at him confused, not seeing where the dwarf was going with that. The Seeker and himself just settled they had no idea of what was going on. Varric looked at him with more insistence. He frowned slightly, understanding. Why was he pushing  _him_  to go talk to her? Cassandra gave a single nod. Solas remained immobile a moment before standing. She was just going to shove him away or to give a Grand-Game smile, at the best. Still, he made his way outside. He heard a paper being folded quickly as he came. Silent, he climbed on the roof, sitting at arm's length from the Herald. She spoke up.

"I have no news about this crest yet."

"You wouldn't be here if you had." She gave a single nod, considering the conversation had reached its natural end. He suppressed a sigh.  _Always difficult._  "I thought I could take a look at the mark, while we are waiting." She didn't look at him.

"No need. Thank you." He frowned.

"Need there is since you barely let me approach it since we left Haven." She glanced at him.

"We both know you cannot prevent it from killing me. So, no. No need." He paused, unsure how to answer that. It will eventually kill her and he could not do lot in his current weakness. Guessing his discomfort – even if unaware of the true why – she resumed quickly and softer. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not accusing you. I just don't want to be indebted to you if I know I won't have the time to repay."

"You don't owe me anything."

"Untrue." He shook his head. No, she didn't. But she couldn't know why.

"What is in this letter?" And that was not the question to ask. A smirk took her lips immediately.

"Mystery for another day."

She stretched her neck and shoulders. He felt a slight tremor going through his spine as the muscles of her sleeveless arm rolled. He could not help but wonder how it would look like if she did that in her antaam-saar. He scolded himself immediately for the thought.

"Come on, we could as well gather some plants while we are here." He rolled his eyes with the hint of a smile.

"Such indomitable focus."

She jumped from the roof as he spoke, offering him a hand. He raised a brow, jumping nimbly as well. She held both hands in innocence, scanning the area for elfroot. As they walked further from the house, she peeked at him with mischief.

"Indomitable focus?" He gave a mischievous smile.

"Presumably. I have yet to see it dominated." He paused, waiting for her to look back at him. She took the bait. "I imagine that the sight would be…Fascinating."

She bit her bottom lip, fighting as much against this stupid giggle as against a blush. Okay, she really had to stop taking these baits, she should have seen this coming.  _You did see it coming, yet, you asked,_ chastised a voice in the back of her head. Damn apostate.  _Cassandra and Varric sent him on distraction duty. Yes, that is it – And this is working._ She scolded herself on the inside. Yes, and a bit too much for her taste.  _Not being undercover doesn't mean being allowed to be your stupid self._

He looked at her as she turned around, capturing a bit of the blush and giggle before she could help it. Definitely a very enjoyable side benefit. She squatted in front of a bush to collect it – and herself in the process. A self-satisfied smirk still on his lips, he made his way to join her.

The crow with the amulet didn't come before the night. Mahariel was still up when it did, not feeling like sleeping these days. She took the crest, looking back towards the little house. She could deal with that on her own. Knowing Bull and Sera had taken more sleep than the others, she woke the Qunari discreetly. He looked up sleepily.

"Boss, what is it?"

"I need you to take my watch."

"Going somewhere?"

"Yes."

"Alone?"

"Yes, they could benefit of some sleep. Long day tomorrow, we leave for the Hinterlands at firsts lights."

He didn't question further. He knew enough of the Basalit-an to know she could take care of herself. Mahariel spun back on her heels and made her way outside. She stopped quickly to finally put her boots back. It was nice to play Dalish a bit now and then, but she'd rather not risk a sword in her shin for that. The map they found indicated the lair of these Blades of Hessarian was only one hour far.

She didn't bother with being particularly discreet. Except from wild animals, the area was as good as deserted. She could have sped up with fade-walk but considered it was unnecessary. The night was young and she always liked lonely walk.

She looked at the base with a raised brow. Not that sure she wanted these guys, finally. Nice hideout, maybe, but one has to be stupid to put a base in a basin. She could put the whole thing on fire with a handful of arrows from where she was. She rolled her eyes and jumped on a rock under her. Her foot slid slightly on the humid rock. She grabbed a root to stabilize herself.  _Okay, maybe looking for an actual path would have been an idea, this time_. She wrapped herself with a barrier, wincing as she felt its weakness. She was not used to that anymore. She hanged herself to the root to reach more carefully the next rock. That did not work that well. The rock cracked and crumbled under her foot. She caught the remaining part in her hand in extremis. She winced again as she heard it crack too.

"Okay, rocky. Be nice, please."

Her whisper didn't change much. The stone collapsed with her grip. She sighed as she fell, preparing herself for a rough landing. Hopefully, no one will witness –

She barely muttered a yell of surprise as Solas caught her. Mouth ajar, she blinked several times. They stared at each other just a bit too long before he loosened his embrace and put her back on her feet. He cleared his throat, a slight smirk dancing on his features.

"Not to say I told you, but I did." Varric laughed.

"Now that I saw that, I forgive the scout for waking us."

And that explained that. She didn't consider Leliana's people. Of course, they would fetch Cassandra if she was to sneak out in the middle of the night. Bull gave her an apologetic look. Cassandra looked at her, obviously amused too, as Sera mumbled something she didn't quite catch. Mahariel sighed and let out.

"You are supposed to be asleep." The Seeker actually smiled.

"When did  _you_ become my mother?"

They all paused, looking at the Seeker, before laughing. Cassandra making a joke. What a day. Well, a night. Whatever.

The doormen let they in as soon as they acknowledged Mahariel's amulet. She made her way in, the others on her heels. A bunch of Blades peeked with curiosity through the barracks' windows. A loud voice resounded. The man was leaning against a lamppost, obviously not expecting visitors. He eyed the mercy's crest around her neck and groaned, slamming his tankard on a table.

"So, you would challenge the Blades of Hessarian?" Mahariel unsheathed a dagger. A cruel smirk on her lips, she played with the blade between her fingers.

" _You_  challenged us when you killed Inquisition's soldiers. We cannot let this stand."

"You want justice? Claim it."  _My pleasure._

He growled a war-cry, charging her with an axe. She avoided easily. Two mabaris barked, rushing towards her. They didn't get to reach her that bolts and arrows where in their sides, claiming their attention. She caught a glimpse of the man flinching.

"Oh, we were counting on them, weren't we? Time for a real duel, my dear."

She disappeared into stealth, letting the man in his confusion. She reappeared at his side, dagger diving deep. He spun, hi axe flying. She avoided it, letting his own momentum affecting his balance. This was way too easy. She turned around again, flanking him on the other side. This time, she didn't stop at avoiding the axe. She gave a clean cut. The man cried out with pain, blood spurting from his arm, hand and weapon on the ground. Eyes dark, she thrusted a blade all the way through his shoulder. She pushed him fiercely until he hit the wall. One hand on the other side of his neck, her face but few inches from his, she gave a vicious twist to her blade. His knees gave up on him but the dagger was forcing him to stand. She spoke low.

"I don't want justice. I want revenge."

She stepped back and beheaded him with her second dagger. She wiped the blood away from her face, a wicked grin on her face. The mabaris laying on the ground too, the others were looking at her, slightly discomforted. Bull finally let out a small laugh.

"Tough little thing."

"That's one way to put it." Admitted Varric.

Mahariel ignored them, more interested by the man who was standing in front of her, obviously waiting for her attention. The man swallowed hard when she finally looked at him.  _I see I made an impression,_ thought she with a self-satisfied smirk. She listened to his words.  _Definitely easy. Good, the Inquisition will have some eyes on the Coast…And we will too. Could prove useful._

They decided to spend the rest of the night in the base. Mahariel stayed on watch, once more sitting on a roof. Inside of the book she was pretending to read where the last dispatch of her agents. She was trying to determine who will be the best suited to keep an eye on these Blades of Hessarian. First of all, they needed to figure out the extent of this group and of their loyalty.

"Dammit Queenie, do you ever sleep?!"

As dawn was coming, she flapped the book closed, raising a brow to Sera.

"I'll sleep when I'm dead." She smirked. "Shouldn't take too long." Sera winced.

"Don't talk like that."

Mahariel shrugged, moving her attention towards the sky. The sun should come up soon now. Better get prepared for the travel. She jumped from the roof, making her way to the leader of the Blades. For now, he could as well report to Leliana. Varric peeked sleepily through the barn they slept in. He yawned and finally declared.

"Okay Buttercup, I bite. Why  _Queenie_?"

Sera paused. Hum, good question. She had given this nickname to Mahariel years ago. At first, because she considered her the equivalent of an elfy silky breech. Then, because of the other elves, going around, calling her  _my Lady_  despite how much it pissed her off. None of these reasons was to be shared, that had been made clear. She finally shrugged.

"Elven queenie of death was too long." Varric paused, considering what she offered. He finally nodded.

"Does stick with the character. Granted."

Solas overheard the conversation from his bedroll. He remained thoughtful a bit. Even if he knew the reason she gave was a lie, Sera had…A point. With her bright blue-green lagoon eyes, her long white hair…Mahariel was beautiful in a regal way. Now that she pointed it out, he realized that she looked like Ghilan'nain. He couldn't help but imagine her with the dresses the Evanuris used to wear, her hair loosened around her delicate features. He pursued his lips, looking around. Hum…The sun would be up soon but…He should have time for a quick sketch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vhenadahl: Tree of the People  
> Pala adahlen: go fuck a forest.


	11. Troubles on the King Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I need to make amend before this chapter start for the butchery of elvhen which is to come here. You'll, btw, notice a point where I just gave up and where the elvhen is indicated by italic because I couldn't build these damn sentences anymore.  
> One other thing, I kind of struggled here because I needed to mention events of "The Masked Empire". I decided to remain quite elusive and, I don't think I'm saying anything you don't know if you played DAI. Still, potential spoilers here for this novel. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy it, thanks for reading! Please, comment! 
> 
> Additional translations in the end notes.

* * *

 

Mahariel had been looking at the two reports with a scowl for endless minutes already. They were two days away from Redcliffe. She had slept little but would not even allow herself a yawn. Not until she put some sense into _this_.

 _That doesn’t make any sense,_ thought her once more _._ Her glance turned back yet again towards the paper covering the left side of the book. _The previous report is one-week old and he told me that Alexius had been locking himself in his study for two weeks and that he could not put a single foot in there to figure out why._ She glared at the one on the right side. _And now he is telling me the magister has been gone for a month for a destination he didn’t share?! What the fuck happened?! This is not even the right code if he has been discovered and was forced to write this!_ She groaned with frustration. If not discovered, what? She could not even suspect attempt of betrayal, not considering the nonsense.

“Something the matter, Grey?” She smiled instantly to Varric.

“Not at all. Just –“ She was going to accuse the Orlesian writers to provoke her morning headaches when she remembered which book she was actually holding. She chuckled. “Just trying to picture Hawke running around to avoid the Arishok’s sword.” Varric laughed.

“I never write that she was running around.” Mahariel smirked.

“A mage? A healer? In a duel?”

“I said I didn’t write it, not that it didn’t happen.” Admitted he, light-heartedly.

She nodded with a small smile. She realized only now the others had been emerging, Varric and Bull busying themselves with the breakfast. She chastised herself silently for being as distracted as she was. _Hopefully, this will be over soon. Varric is doomed to realize I actually did not read a single page yet._ She noticed in her peripheric vision Solas, looking at her with narrowed eyes. She beamed, nodding her greetings. She actually wanted to slap herself, wondering how long he had been standing there. _Either he believes I’m a very low reader, or he knows perfectly I was not reading the book._

Solas gave a small smile and nod of his own as she jumped from the rock she had been sitting on. He had seen her going through enough scholar scrolls to figure out the Templar-Mage conflict to know she read way faster than that. He knew he should have withdrawn earlier. Now, little were the odds that whatever she had been reading didn’t end up burnt before he even got a chance at seeing it. But he wanted her reaction. Nicely done. A genuine grin who had nothing of a Grand-Game one. He could have fallen for it.

 

* * *

 

They reached the King Road. Mahariel was relieved for not hearing back from Haven about the Templar question. She didn’t want them to have a reason to resume their bickering.

The party was chatting lightly. Since they dealt with the templars and apostates around, the area was safer, if not for few mercenaries. Mercenaries who seemed to be thinking twice before attacking their large group.

Solas felt the presence of an elven artifact. An artifact he knew well, one of his work; meant to strengthen the Veil. It had been a long time since he had asked his agents to spread them all over Thedas. But he could feel the magic – _his_ magic. He informed the Herald. She did not hesitate a second and asked him the right direction. Cassandra frowned.

“We have no time, Herald. We have to approach the mages.” Mahariel turned to her with a smirk.

“Let me get this straight: we have no time because we have to approach the mages in order to gather power to close the Breach. Breach which happens to be a hole in the Veil. Is that just me, or does an artifact meant to strengthen the Veil sound like something useful suddenly? _And_ we are looking for power. Magical kind. Why, I wonder, do I want to lose time with an ancient elven artifact? Not like it holds this type of power, does it Seeker?”

Solas suppressed a smile. Cassandra, the eyes defeated, followed. The sooner it would be dealt with, the sooner they could go back to their mission. Mahariel nothing but ignored Sera mumbling behind her. She noticed the blond getting aloof, apparently decided to gather plants while they dealt with their _elfiness_. She said nothing, letting the girl be.

When they got closer to the cave, they spotted a mage fighting demons. Mahariel rushed towards her. Solas’ nose wrinkled. Dalish. Once the demons were dead, Mahariel looked at the mage they encountered.

“Are you wounded?”

The Dalish frowned, looking at Mahariel’s face with suspicion.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you. Unexpected for some vint flat-ear to care.” Mahariel crossed her arms.

“Ma she tunas, da’len.” _You judge quickly, da’len._

The mage’s eyes widened with surprise before narrowing. Mahariel bit her bottom lips. _Stupid child, you should have let the Elvhen out of this one._ She took a good look at her and suppressed the urge to smash her head on a rock. _Freaking idiot, you know her!_ An agent. A difficult one, but an agent nonetheless.

Reluctantly an agent, more accurately. And one who never forgave her for not stepping in when her clan was slaughtered. Not that she blamed her. These few months had been her worst failure. Halamshiral, clan Virnehn, the eluvians…She had been nothing but powerless, always too late.

She could not mask her eyes, not with the others right here. The mage finally froze. She had never met the assassin without her cape and hood, few had. But these eyes were hardly forgotten. She took a step back.

“Evanuris halani em, ar dirth na, ma ane – “ _Creators, I know you, you are –_

“Stop right there.” Commanded Mahariel, adamant. The mage looked at her, bewildered. Mahariel glanced to Solas to signify he could understand. The Dalish frowned and nothing but spat in elvhen.

“Tel’ise El’vhen. Teleolas.” _He is not one of the People. He doesn’t understand._

 Solas was about to put back this little brat in her place but Mahariel spoke up first.

“Dianas, da’len!” _Enough, da’len!_

“Dianas bora em melin da’len!” _Stop calling me child!_

 _“_ Dianas ena la. Ma tunas vhen la sa shemlen bor ter sule em’an. Ar’an on’el.” _Stop acting like one. You judge and insult people as quickly as a shem would throw a rock at us. We are better than this._ She paused, her eyes turning dark and way too old for her face. “Tel’silas ahn unena? Isalan sila na mahn es en em’an melahn’an?” _Are your memories that bad? Am I to remind you where these reactions already led us?_

They glared at each other few seconds. Mahariel dismissed the argument with a gesture and came back to common.

 “We can discuss further later. Who are you and why are you here?”

The Dalish’s scowl deepened but she answered, knowing enough of the assassin not to want to piss her off. She reluctantly gave her name for the rest of the party. She was called Mihris and was looking for the same artifact. Mahariel suppressed a sigh as she mentioned clan Virnehn. She just had to smash it once more in her face. _Yes, I get it, I failed._ Solas noticed silently the concerned clan, having a hard-time believing the coincidence. _And they know each other. So…It means THAT was likely what Mahariel referred to when she said “melahn’an”. Fascinating._

 Solas kept a distant ear on the following conversation. If the elvhen taught him anything, it was that the said conversation was nothing but a play for the others. Mahariel lifted a bunch of rocks, then more demons, veilfire, rune and finally artifact. He only intervened when Mihris mentioned that she found something. _No way she is keeping this. The creators did not leave it for you,_ my _agents left it there._ He stayed perfectly diplomatic and it did not take much to convince her. Mahariel glanced quickly at him with a small smirk. Once back outside, Mihris was calmer and resumed in elvhen.

“Ar tel’unsilan var vir sal juvhella. Ar tel’unsilan ma dane Radalas. Garas quenathra?” _I never thought my steps would lead me back to you. I did not even know you were in Ferelden. What are you doing here?_

“Vis dame elvyr mya, ar tel’avy ea gonathe ma’melin, avy ar? Ar ame Inquisition” _If I was easy to follow, I would not deserve my name, would I? I’m with the Inquisition._ Mihris frowned again.

“Anhsul vaslasas shemlen?” _Why are you working for the shemlen?_

“ _I’m working WITH them. Considering your Clan is dead, you are welcome in Haven, by the way.”_ Mihris considered her a time, trying to figure out if the _offer_ was an order. As she realized it was nothing but an offer of shelter, she snorted.

 _“You say that as if it was what a true Dalish would do. I am no harellan. There is more than ONE of your names you deserve.”_ This time Solas intervened before Mahariel could stop him.

“ _That’s enough. She just helped you, da’len.”_ Mihris frowned deeper.

“Ma dirth nada! Banal’ras ver na, flat-ear.” _You know nothing! May the Banal’ras take you_.

Mahariel hardly suppressed a cough. _For the love of – REALLY?!_ Mihris didn’t even glance at her and spun on her heels. Solas scowled and was once more about to add something to close the mouth of this idiot but Mahariel held her hand, expression unreadable.

“Don’t bother. Let’s go to Redcliffe.”

Her nose wrinkled with the slightest hesitation before she glanced back towards the leaving mage, loudening her voice and switching back to elvhen.

“ _For the records, the Sabrae in the Free Marches have room for another mage_.” Mihris froze and hesitated before spinning towards her.

“What?” Mahariel challenged her with her gaze.

“ _You heard me. South of Markham, towards the Green Dales. Dareth shiral, Mihris.”_

This time, she moved effectively, ignoring the looks of the others. Solas smiled slightly at her most noble reaction and the bewilderment of Mihris.  

What he ignored was that, it was not noble of her. What would have been noble, would have been to share this piece of information with Mihris when she first met her, years ago. She did not. She needed the mage to remain at her service in order to deal with the mess she alone among the Dalish witnessed. So, first, she kept the piece of information, second, she _reminded_ the black-hair how unfortunate for her it will be if the clans heard she once accepted demonic possession willingly. It was no noble gesture, just a way to remind Mihris _she_ was the one with the upper hand, no matter if the Dalish was now able to out her.

After the release of Imshael, the destruction of Clan Virnehn, the discovery of the eluvians and Briala’s claim on them, Mihris had looked for a clan to tell them what happened. Mahariel, at this time, was hiding in Tevinter, her track too warm for her to risk coming back in Orlais. Instead, Mihris ran into Oran and a Dalish hunter named Eludyssia. They traveled together to the closest clan. Mihris did not realized who they were until they handed a pile of papers to the Keeper, saying who it was from. She told what she knew to the Keeper. After heated debates, he gave a sealed letter to Oran and Eludyssia, and ordered her to follow them. She had to tell the story to someone who could deal with Briala. Someone who had proven that the Dalish cared for the city elves too.

This Keeper made of her one of the Banal’ras’ agent.

Mihris had all reasons to hate Mahariel. But the assassin did not care. The fact was, the only way to keep this one loyal had been threats and, despite their issues, Mihris was more useful alive than dead. She needed her and so, she was happy to oblige.

Solas was, however, skeptical. This was not the first time someone used this curse in front of him. The last occurrence had been a Dalish hunter chasing him away from a clan. Considering, he had had no time to ask for explanations. He vaguely remembered Felassan mentioning them. No that he listened a lot, back then. After that, his agents had related some tales, but he knew very few about this assassin.

The others were talking casually how Mahariel knew this girl. Not bothering with details, she simply declared she had been once engaged as a mercenary near Clan Virnehn. He remained still despite the obvious lies. _A wonder she let Mihris talk in front of me. She is well-aware I understood and could tell the others?_ He had no intention to do such thing, but he was surprised that Mahariel knew it too. It was pleasant to know she trusted him more than she trusted the others.

Seeing Solas was getting out of his lost-in-mind state, Mahariel quickly glanced at him. She was, weirdly, not worried about what he could say. Still, she needed to meet his eyes, at least to make him known she was grateful for his silence. He gave her the smallest hint of a smile for the silent exchange to remain unseen. He finally spoke up, thinking a change of subject will put her at ease.

“Seeker, if you could indulge me, who is this person called Banal’ras?”

Mahariel didn’t flinch the slightest, despite her discomfort with the sudden topic. She did not even glance again at Solas. It was not a move against her, she was certain of that. For all his perfect composure, his hint of smile gave away that much. She knew him enough. It would have been a hint of smirk if he was about to trick her. No, he had no idea. Cassandra winced, obviously not the first fan of the person he just mentioned.

“Criminals, thieves, assassins, information brokers. They are well-known in the Empire since they attacked the Empress’ forces years ago.” Mahariel’s features were unreadable as she was keeping her thoughts to herself. _Yeah, come on, put it like that, not like she began it with purging Halamshiral’s slums._

“Why an elven name?” Asked Solas.

“Orlesians came up with that. I imagine a scholar happened to know the word for assassin and found that romantic.”

“Shadow.” Pointed out Mahariel.

“Oh? Well, shadow then. One way or another, no one ever catch the leader. We are not even certain there is one. All we know for sure is that they are dangerous. The Empire tried to trick them several times, using someone who had been in contact with them for pieces of information. Each one ended up dead and soon, no one ever in contact with the organization dared say a word.” Mahariel suppressed some rolling eyes. _Sorry not to fall for a trick, how rude of us._

“You are telling a very one-sided story, Seeker.” Noticed Varric. Cassandra raised a brow.

“Do you know more than I do?”

“Actually, yes. Remember Daisy? She has been in contact with them too. Did you know these _criminals_ paid for the restorations of Kirkwall’s Alienage? And they provided the Dalish with these white mounts too. Oh, and Broody, who has been chasing Tevinter slavers? He ran into slaves freed by them, several times.”

Mahariel was not far from chocking. _The slaves, why not we are in Ferelden. Still, you are risking my Tevinter agents’ life by saying this! And the rest? For real? This cannot go common knowledge! Daisy…Fuck, who is it? She could use a reminder of how things are meant to work._ Cassandra looked at him with wide eyes.

“What? No one ever mentioned – “

“Of course, they didn’t. And you won’t either because elven or not, they do have a soft spot for elves. And the nobles hearing that won’t reconsider their position about the organization. No, they will attack the alienage for that. My point is, I don’t know a lot more about them. But if you don’t do anything to piss them off, they don’t take a target randomly.” Sera, barely reunited with the party, mumbled.

“Elves here, elves there, could ya talk about somethin’ less borin’ for once? Like bees.”

“Wait a minute, Sera. Varric, maybe they did some good things, but they are still criminals. Do you know how many people they killed?” _And you don’t know half of it._ Varric shrugged.

“I’m not saying they are choirboys. I’m just saying, this is not the other nobles who will tell us what the person did to provoke them.” Solas nodded and looked at Mahariel. He was sure she knew way more than anyone else.

“Thoughts?” She shrugged.

“Honestly? I think they are talking about an organization just to reassure themselves. A nameless enemy is no good. But, you know, there has to be a bad guy, they just wouldn’t admit they saw it coming.” Cassandra stifled but said nothing more. “As for Varric’s part, the other way around. A nameless benefactor is frustrating.” It had been everything but honest. She didn’t feel like she had much of a choice here.

“Interesting point of view.”

“Beeeeeeeeeeees. Bees are fun. We need more of them. What do ya say, Queenie?”

Mahariel glanced at Sera with a hint of a smile as she made them finally dropped the subject.

Solas remained thoughtful a time. Truth be told, this organization had been useful to cover his own agents’ deeds lately. They were more aggressive than Briala’s people. He didn’t feel like he knew a lot more, however. Cassandra had the typical lawful human opinion about them. Varric knew just what he needed to avoid troubles with them. And Mahariel…He was not sure what to think of Mahariel’s words. She had a point. The organization might not be as large as the rumors suggested. It was a scapegoat to many, and a cover to more. However, there _was_ an organization.

He could not help but wonder if she really didn’t know anything. She did seem surprised by Varric’s words, maybe their actions in Tevinter were quieter? That would explain that she did not hear anything about it. In any case, she sounded sympathetic to them.

 

* * *

              

They drew camp for the night less than a mile from Redcliffe.

Mahariel hardly managed to suppress a frown as the insistent whistle would not stop. That was the third time. Either her agents wouldn’t take the hint of _I cannot come now_ , or this was bad enough for them to insist. Bull had glanced at her as she straightened the slightest with the first one. She fidgeted her fingers, looking for a way to take her leave discreetly. Not going to be easy. The six of them were around the fire, taking dinner. Bull, guessing something was going on, finally offered.

“Basalit-an, I forgot. I had a letter from Isskari for you with my last report.” A sparkle of gratefulness jumped in her eyes as she looked at him with genuine surprise.

“Oh? How is he? Can I see it?” Bull nodded and stood.

“Of course. Come, it is somewhere in my pack.”

They made their way to their stuffs. They talked casually as she grabbed her cape in hers. She thanked him for the _letter_ and made her way to her tent as the bird whistled yet again. _Yeah, okay, I get it. Better be important_. She put on the cape and adjusted the hood to cover efficiently her hair and sneaked out by the other side.

She looked at Kira with a frown. How did she even know how to find _her_? She had but few agents aware of her displacements, and the young elf was not one of them. For Oran to share this…

“What is it?” the dark-hair shifted from one foot to another and swallowed hard.

“My Lady, something…has been going on in Redcliffe.”

“Yes, the rebel mages.” Nodded Mahariel, irritated.

“No…Er…Yes. But…I don’t understand how it happened, we all sent reports as soon as…But…Er…Oran seemed awfully surprised in his last letter and told me that you had to know, because you didn’t and…” Mahariel raised an annoyed brow at her babblings.

“Kira, I have no time for this. Get done with it.”

* * *

“WHAT?!”

Hopefully her soundproofing prevented the yell from resounding in all of the area. However, it didn’t prevent the birds to take off and nugs to flee, all for a most dramatic effect.

Bull froze with the row of wings and whines of the nugs, urging in their direction. Wow. No idea who she was talking to, but he would not want to be at their place. Tough little thing. Definitely. The others looked at the animals too, dumbfounded.

“What is it? Bear?” Asked Cassandra, already reaching for her sword.

“We didn’t hear anything.” Pointed out Varric.

Solas frowned, knowing Mahariel’s love for soundproofing. That would make sense, if she was not supposed to be reading a letter in her tent. And, despite her tendency to be jumpy, _that_ apparently didn’t make her move.

Daggers in her eyes, Mahariel grabbed Kira by the collar, daring her to say that again. The young elf looked down, swallowing hard.

“I’m sorry my Lady…I don’t understand…I swear we sent reports…They must have been intercepted…”

“How? By who?” Growled she, ominous.

“I don’t know…”

“To who did you send them?!”

“Oran, in Val Royeaux.”

“I changed the dispatch weeks ago!” Kira looked at her, confused.

“I…I didn’t get any update.”

“What?! What the fuck is happening here?!”

She shoved Kira away, frustrated. So, Oran randomly passed by a cache where the birds would have let the reports and gave away her position for Kira to inform her ASAP. That made sense. The only damn thing here which was making sense. She took a deep breath, glancing at Kira. The elf was shaking with fear. She sighed. No need to dwell on that, they will figure what went wrong later.

“Go. I’m going to take care of that.”

 _No freaking idea how, but I will._ Kira nodded weakly, babbling some more excuses. Mahariel nothing but collapsed on the ground as soon as she was gone. How was she even supposed to deal with that? As if a magister reclaiming the mages wasn’t bad enough, this magister knew her. She pinched her nose, feeling the headache coming. How did they not know that sooner? What did she miss?

“Boss? What is happening?”

She glanced towards Bull. Her nose wrinkled. And she was becoming stupid. Of course, her outburst scared the hell out of the animals around. And she didn’t have the composure to restrain herself from the said outburst. _Dahn’direlan._ She spurted out, considering she was going to need the Ben-Hassrath for the mess which was to come.

“Freakin’ vint enslaved the mage.” Bull’s eyes widened.

“What? How?”

“I don’t know.” Said she, irritated. “And he knows me.” Bull frowned even deeper. He fell silent a time, processing. He shook his head.

“This is impossible. That all of us, all of our networks missed it? Your spymaster’s, the Ben-Hassrath’s, and…Whoever is tipping you? No, no way.” She raised a brow.

“ _Whoever is tipping you_?” Bull shrugged, a slight hint of respect in his eyes.

“Your ciphers are good. Three years and no one broke them.” She nodded and dropped the subject.

 “This is not the problem right now. You are right, it is theoretically impossible for something that big to escape one of these. So, all? Something is wrong.”

“Agreed. What do we do now?” She bit her bottom lip. Hell of a question.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dahn'Direlan: idiot, literally, bee-puncher.


	12. Calessia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for the kudos guys! Your thoughts, comments, suggestions are, as always, more than welcome. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

 

The next morning, she sent Varric, Cassandra and Solas investigating the lead on the warden, two good hours from where they were. The discussion had been heated for a time, but Cassandra finally accepted as Mahariel pointed out there was no need to be six of them only to see what wanted Fiona with them. None of them was a fool and knew way too-well something was going on here. Still, it had been made implicitly clear she was not to approach Redcliffe with them around. They conformed reluctantly. As there was only Bull, Sera and her left at the camp, it was easier for Mahariel. Sera didn’t know everything, but she knew enough to withdraw if she asked her to. She had sent a late messenger to the castle during the night, hoping it will find Felix.

She went aloof from the camp to avoid Sera – who was pouting in her tent anyway because left out of the fun.

She took care of her war-paint, jewels and hair differently.

She took her claw-ring with the signet of Eventus, a silver string with a square ruby, a matching head-chain and a silver hairgrip with a black dragon with rubies as eyes. She took off her gauntlets and unclipped a finger of her left one to replace it with the signet one. She put the string above her armor.

She added a savant entanglement of little braids in her hair, gathering the whole thing into a bun. She finished the task by attaching the hairgrip and the head-chain. She changed her make-up for it to underline the head-chain. It was coming up in a peak to cover the all of the vallaslin. She added vertical lines crossing her eyes and lips. She kept the circle of magi symbol on her chin.

Bull had gone on an errand to the Crossroad to find her a staff. He had, subtly, chosen one with a skull at the top. She secured it on her back and stretched her neck. _Here we go._

It didn’t exactly begin well as they ran into a rift. The demons weren’t especially strong. A tremor went through her spine as she leapt across the battle. She suddenly felt the world go…Slower? Was that a thing? Bull rushed on a pair of opponents, twirling with his axe. His eyes widened as his moves sped up unwillingly, making of him a deadly tornado. It settled quickly the issue of the demons and Mahariel held her hand as soon as she finally reached the ground.

“Fasta vass, what was that?!”

“What the fuck happened?!”

They yelled at the same time, looking at each other. They had no time to speak more that the doors began to open. They exchanged a look and withdrew quickly with a nod, not especially wanting to be acknowledged as the peoples who just closed it.

Her nose wrinkled the slightest. She had the unnerving feeling of being observed. Did Sera follow them? If she did, she was good, she could not manage to know where she was at all. She had no time to question the thing further as the man she was waiting for appeared. She cleared her throat slightly to direct him towards the shadows they were hidden in. He grinned and approached – quite slowly. She suppressed a sparkle of worry when she noticed his sick paleness and slowness. He gave her a warm hug as he spoke.

“Calessia! I’m so happy to see you!” She gave him his embrace back, smiling, and spoke with a strong Tevinter accent.

“Me too, Felix. My apologies for making this complicated.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m simply relieved to know you are alive. With what happened at the Conclave…” He withdrew slightly, keeping her hands in his, she was to speak when another voice resounded.

“Felix? Where did you –“

Alexius stopped his steps as he took a glimpse of his son, _Calessia_ and the Qunari. His eyes widened the slightest, more at the grey-skinned warrior than at the elf. He instantly put on a confident smile on his face, stepping towards them.

“Here you have been. I shouldn’t be surprised. And Calessia, what a pleasure to see you here! I was wondering when I will be granted your visit. What an interesting pet you have here.” Added he as he glanced towards Bull.

Both Mahariel and him suppressed the need to smash his head at the comment, considering it was sadly the plan for Bull to pass as a slave. She was more confused by the lack of surprise. He seemed to have been waiting for her. They exchanged a formal handshake as she bowed slightly.

“Magister Alexius. My apologies for such unconventional meeting.” He held his hand.

“No, no, I understand. Knowing Eventus sent you at the Conclave, when I heard of this white-hair elf they called Herald, I figured.” He chuckled smugly. “What were the odds? At any rate, I understood you decided to keep your identity for yourself. How commendable to protect the best interests of your Magister.”

She noticed the sparkle of worry passing quickly through Felix’s eyes as information hit home. Alexius went on, musing out loud. As Mahariel was keeping Alexius’ attention, Bull noticed Felix searching his pocket in the meantime. With a lucky guess, he handed him discreetly a piece of paper.

“You are the survivor, the one from the Fade…How interesting. And you found yourself Herald of Andraste and agent of the Inquisition in the process. I imagine this is no visit of courtesy, is it?” Felix let out a small laugh.

“I would have loved to see the face of Magister Eventus when he learned that his apprentice is _the blessed Herald of Andraste_.” Mahariel laughed.

“Me too, must have been quite the sight!” Alexius seemed eager to get to business and held a hand to his son.

“The southern mages are under my command.” Mahariel grew serious.

“I gathered. I’m certain we can come to some sort of agreement, don’t you think?”

“As reasonable as always, my friend.”

He made a sign for her to follow him towards the gates, apparently with the intention to find a proper place for negotiation instead of standing there like thieves. She exchanged another amused look with Felix who offered her his elbow as they began to follow his father.

They, however, didn’t get to reach the gates. Felix stumbled slightly, grabbing Mahariel’s hands. She slid the paper into her sleeve without blinking. Alexius turned towards his son, with genuine concern. She let her own worry dawdling on her features a time as Alexius babbled something about keeping her Tevinter identity for himself and contacting the Inquisition for further discussions. Mahariel offered truthfully her help to put together some healing mists. He politely declined. The three of then exchanged very quick goodbyes as Mahariel came back towards Bull.

“What does the note say?” She chuckled.

“For someone with one eye, you manage to see a lot.” He smirked, not pointing out he knew because he gave him the piece of paper.

_Come to the Chantry, you are in danger._

“Well, I could have guessed that.”

“To the Chantry, then.”

Mahariel disappeared into stealth as Bull walked through Redcliffe. He kept his pace casual and, as Mahariel requested, exchanged few words with the inhabitants, for the word of the Inquisition being here spread. He made it quick, however, knowing their timing was short.

She slammed the door of the Chantry – that was becoming a habit obviously.

She was surprised to find a rift and an unknown man inside, fighting demons. He addressed her quickly as she ran into battle with the Qunari.

Once more, they experienced these most curious areas which would make them slower or quicker.

The unknown man happened to be a pariah well-known in Minrathous: Dorian Pavus. She knew him to be the former apprentice of Alexius. Bull frowned.

“Watch yourself. The pretty ones are always the worst.” Mahariel, keeping her Tevinter accent, turned to him with a dramatic hand on the chest.

“Now, I’m offended.” They noticed a bit too-late they were quite bad at the master-slave play. Dorian obviously didn’t care the slightest about Bull’s statue and chuckled.

“Suspicious friends you have here. I’m surprised you are without handcuffs.”  Mahariel exchanged a look with Bull and shrugged.

“No that they didn’t try, but turns out I need my hands to _wiggle_ _my fingers_.” He laughed.

“I see. And don’t be offended, my dear. No one can compete with my dashing hair.” She smirked.

“I noticed.”

“Of course, you have eyes. Wonderful ones, by the way.” Added he with a wink.

They laughed a bit more before Dorian resumed his explanations. Time magic. She took few seconds to process, as Bull. Considering what happened with her agents…That was weirdly making sense. As much as time-magic could ever make sense. That was as grand as that was dangerous. Felix finally reappeared and helped cleared some dark passages.

“Calessia, you heard of the Venatori, didn’t you?” She was to answer but Dorian cut her short taking a step back in a dramatic way.

“Calessia? Oh my, I did not realize who I was facing! I heard _a lot_ about you, young lady!” He winked. She crossed her arms and smirked.

“I have heard much about you as well, Altus Pavus.”

“Don’t spill what people say about me or I will spill what they say about you? Fair enough. I still hope a proper discussion about the gossips later, you have been warned! Such a pleasure to meet my dear friend’s dear friend!”

“I would share the pleasure more sincerely if the word Venatori had not been used twenty seconds ago. Felix, can you elaborate?”

He did, but not much. The conclusion was mostly, better intervening soon before everything gets to crap.

 

* * *

 

When Solas, Varric, Cassandra, and the newly recruited Blackwall made their way to the camp, Mahariel was back to her usual appearance.

They had briefed Sera for her story about the meeting to match their, and Mahariel had come back into Redcliffe as her _Herald self,_ for the inhabitants and few mages to confirm they saw her. Kira was to handle putting few _witnesses_ in the right spots, in case Cassandra or Leliana’s scouts were to ask. Mahariel wasn’t satisfied with such weak measures, but she had no time for more.

They, however, chose not to lie and admitted they did not see Fiona as Alexius found them first. Close enough to what happened.

Good thing, the others were most interested by this story of time-magic and Magister than by the details of the discussions. If one thing was sure, it was that they had to act quickly.

As the Seeker and the Herald were busy discussing the best next move and writing reports to Leliana, Solas escaped the camp, officially to gather woods for the fire. He made his way until a discreet spot and set wards, before sitting cross-legged. He took few deep breathes and quickly made his way into the Fade.

He found the elf he was looking for easily. His agent – Nyreos – was waiting for him. The man was tall with light brown hair gathered into a tail. He was bare-faced. He nodded respectfully.

“My Lord.” He gave back the nod, his nose wrinkling slightly to the title. Not like protesting had ever worked.

“Nyreos. What did you find?” He smiled faintly.

“See for yourself.”

The elf summoned the memories around them. It began with Mahariel, or obviously, her Tevinter self, and Bull making their way to Redcliffe. He frowned slightly. He watched as they fought the demon and witnessed the time-magic. And when, instead of entering, they withdrew in the shadows. His features unreadable, his fist clenched in his back with the warm welcome to Felix. Who was that? Was he who she had been hiding? _Some…Tevinter bedfellow?_ Thought he with gritted teeth. They could hear some bits of words, here and there, allowing him to acknowledge the second Tevinter as this Magister Alexius.

He glared uselessly at the memory as he saw her laugh with Felix and taking his elbow gracefully. They read the note and moved on to the Chantry. They closed another rift. Nyreos had taken advantage of the demon’s row to break a window on the upper level, having good view and the Chantry’s acoustic allowing him to listen. Not that he was exactly certain having his Lord hearing was such a good idea at this point. Solas hardly suppressed a growl. _For the love of – Do they have NOTHING better to do than to flirt, right this moment?! Oh, and the first one is coming back. Wonderful._ As the memory stopped, Nyreos hesitated a bit.

“My Lord?”

“What?” Hissed Solas through gritted teeth.

“Are you…Okay?” Solas raised a brow.

“Yes. Thank you, Nyreos. I would be interested in learning more about this _Calessia_. Could you send words to our agents in Tevinter?”

“Consider it done.”

They exchanged nods. Solas stepped out of the Fade, absolutely refusing to acknowledge the feeling at the origin of his sudden dreadful mood. He tried to stay focus. So, she was hiding someone, but it was herself, so to speak. Meaning, she knew exactly what she was going to find in Redcliffe, and it was why she sent them away. Who tipped her, then? One of the Tevinter? A servant? At least, the involvement of Bull was encouraging his theory about her spying for the Qun in the Imperium. Maybe the tip came from the Ben-Hassrath?

 

* * *

 

Cassandra made her way towards the Herald. She was a bit aloof, busying herself with mists. _If Solas could condescend to come back with the woods, I might actually be able to get something done._ The Seeker stood next to her. After few seconds, Mahariel turned towards her, a raised brow.

“Cassandra, can I do anything for you?” The Seeker pursued her lips. She had had it in mind since the day before but didn’t manage to catch her alone. She finally answered.

“I wanted to apologize, Mahariel.” _Wow, first name?_ The second brow joined the first up with surprise.

“What for?” The Seeker was almost standing in a fighting stance.

“What I said some time ago in Haven. When I said you did not look Dalish. I did not realize until yesterday I likely offended you.” Her surprise only grew. She did offend her a bit, but, honest mistake, considering she was doing everything not to look Dalish.

“Why do you think that?”

“When we crossed paths with the Dalish mage. I don’t know a lot about the Dalish, but I do know they are very secretive when it comes to their language. And you are fluent. It means you are Dalish. Or have been, I don’t know. Still, my words likely hurt you.”

Mahariel’s features remained still. She had feared someone would make the connection. A _Fenhedis_ or a _lethallin_ could easily be spoken by a city elf. But one could hardly have a whole discussion. Despite that, she had taken the risk, knowing Mihris. She would have said exactly the same things in common or elvhen. At least, only Solas had understood it, and he did not point out to the others whatever they said in common was a play.

She could not deny the seeker’s reasoning. Well, not straightforwardly. She went for the vagueness of the historical answer.

“My people come from the elves who refused to surrender when humans broke their treaty and destroyed the Dales.” Before Cassandra could answer anything, Solas came out of nowhere, wood in his hands. He snorted.

“Your Keeper was not wrong about that, at least. We must mark the occasion of the Dalish remembering something correctly. Perhaps we should plant a tree.”

 _This bare-faced DID NOT just say that…_ She spun to him, her mask fully falling as her eyes were throwing lightnings. He disregarded her, putting the woods on the ground. Cassandra’s eyes widened as she turned to him too. No one else was here to hear so Mahariel allowed herself to give in. She jumped on her feet, ominous.

“You insult my peoples!” He snorted again and stood back, holding her gaze.

“They insult themselves. Remember, I have walked the memories of the Fade. I have seen the history the Dalish imitated.”

Each of them took steps forwards as they spoke and they were standing but few inches away. Solas took a vicious pleasure in looking down to her, considering her 5.5 feet.

“Oh, my lord knows so much better than anyone, doesn’t he? And yet, you don’t know the first thing about the people you insult!”

“What is there to know? You claim to follow the old ways without knowing what that means, you spat on strangers and _you_ think you are so much better than anyone else. You are but ersatz of elv – “

The slap reached his cheek before she could help it. Not that she wanted to help it. Red with rage, her eyes blurry, she disappeared in stealth one second later. Cassandra had witnessed the whole scene. When she finally got over her shock of how things had gone bad amazingly quickly, she glared at Solas, yelling as well.

“What the hell was that?!” He laughed bitterly after stretching his painful jaw.

“The demonstration of my point.”

“You are going to tell me _this_ was not cruel, wanton and unfair from _you_?” He frowned.

“You don’t know what you are talking about, Seeker.”

“Maybe, but what I know is that she had done nothing but respecting you and you just declared her people and _herself_ were an ersatz! Don’t you see you brought her to tears?! Maker, _SHE!_ To tears!”

His nose wrinkled as he frowned. He did not begin – _Yes, you did. She was not even talking to you. You stepped in the conversation and aggressed her._ He subsided the slightest, having to admit that Cassandra had a point. The memory showed by Nyreos put him in a most awful mood. This _bitterness_ he felt and refused to name put him in a most awful mood. His back straightened.

“I did not say _she_ was an ersatz.” Cassandra burst.

“YOU JUST DID!” He frowned again. His features dropped with awe as he realized that he, indeed, did. He looked at Cassandra with almost distress in his eyes.

“I did not mean to. I got carried away with the use of the _you_.”

He was mad at himself and he had taken this anger on her…Fenedhis, the Seeker was right. Wanton, cruel, and unfair. She had been nothing but the very proof there was more to the Dalish than he thought and he just disregarded the last months. She had shown nobility, wisdom, determination, compassion, open-mindedness, how was it her fault if he happened to care more about her more than it was wise? Dammit, she had defended him without hesitation face to a Dalish just the day before! How was it her fault if…If – _If you are jealous. Stop playing child, it is what you are._ How was it her fault if he had been jealous to see her being all warm with another man? He spoke low, more to himself than the Seeker.

“I should apologize.”

“You have done enough. _I_ will go find her.”

Cassandra was going to leave when Varric appeared, alarmed, letters in his hands.

“Seeker, Chuckles, what the hell happened? I barely caught a glimpse of Grey when she took her pack. She literally fled the camp.” Cassandra shook her head, glaring at Solas.

“Ask him.”

“Chuckles?”

Solas was definitely beginning to feel horrifyingly ashamed. Damn, he _had_ good reasons to be angry at her. She lied and sent them away to protect her cover. For all he knew, she could actually _be_ a Tevinter spy! Well, he doubted it, but she could. And, at the end, he was angry at her for what? For hugging someone and complimenting another on his hair. Which was potentially part of her character, by the way. He avoided the question by pointing the letters.

“What are these?” Varric pinched his nose.

“Er…Remember before we left Haven, Grey was pissed like never and Ruffles mentioned a messenger dropping something. I think _that_ is the something.”

Solas frowned and stretched his arm but a glare of the Seeker made it clear _she_ was to see it first. Her eyes widened as she quickly went through the one who was not in a cipher.

“Maker, here I thought you could not have done worst.”

She handed him the letter and his eyes followed the example of the Seeker’s. For once, he let out a curse.

“Fenedhis lasa.” Cassandra made a disgusted noise at the apostate and turned to Varric.

“You did not show that to the others, right?”

“No, of course not. It fell open on the ground and I grabbed it before someone else did.”

“Good. Come with me, we will go find her.” She turned to Solas with killer eyes “You better work on pretty good apologies in the meantime.” Varric frowned and considered Solas, waiting for some explanations. Instead, he noticed the redness of his cheek.

“Holy shit, she slapped you?!” Cassandra grunted.

“He deserved it.”

He had to admit the truth of these three words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, in my mind Solas is jealous. I cannot explain why. Maybe just the need to slap him at least once. Anyway, I apparently had the need to mess up this quest even more by introducing the Dalish fight there. Let's see how this goes...


	13. In Hushed Whispers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go for this messy version of this quest. Thank you so much for reading, subscribing and leaving kudos, it means a lot! Additional translations in the end notes.

* * *

 

Mahariel was waiting next to the Chantry, pacing up and down frantically. How many time did it take to this stupid vint to be back here?! He could not be that far.

“Miss me already? I cannot say I’m surp – “Dorian paused as he saw her bloodshed eyes. Considering, he didn’t give that much attention to her change of look. His expression turned concerned and compassionate “What is it, my friend? What happened?”

She dismissed the question with an annoyed gesture. The last thing she wanted to do was to talk about this insufferable flat-ear.  And she did not even want to begin to think about why his words had felt like a dagger going right through her heart. The only thing she wanted was getting this over with and going back to her life.

“You said you wanted to be here for when I act. Guess what, ‘tis now.” His eyes widened – definitely the theme of the evening.

“What?! Now?! Alone?!”

“Yes. Given Felix manages to escape once more.” Her ear flinched as it noticed a sound “Speaking of which.”

“Calessia, why – Calessia, are you alright?” Dorian rolled her eyes.

“That was a stupid question. No, she is not and on the top of it, I think she lost her way.” She growled.

“Fuck with that.” She handed Felix a little flask “Antidote. Take it, give it to your father. No south mages in the first stair, right?” She paused but a single second, taking the silence as confirmation “How much time? Fifteen minutes head-start sound right?”

“Wow wow wow, slow down. Head-start for what?” She rolled her eyes.

“For me to slam the door and poison the air to kill the Venatori, in order to have a proper talk without fireballs. What else?”

“You cannot – “

“Vishante kaffas! I can and I will! Help me or get out of my way, I’m tired of these messes!”

She shoved the vial in his hands. Felix looked bewildered as he tried once more.

“Calessia, if only you could tell – “

“Tick tock, fifteen minutes, no time for questions or dear father is poisoned.”

She smirked viciously as she declared. Felix’s mouth shut and he nodded, defeated and afraid. He casted a last pleading look at Dorian, asking to talk her out of it as he went away.

However, the mage quickly understood talking her out of it was not going to happen. So, he drank the vial she handed him and then went away to sneak inside the castle, considering he could not possibly arrive arm under the arm with the Herald. Herself did not need to take the antidote. She was used to pour some in the water of the party, since she could need the mist at any time.

She busied herself to throw dagger into an innocent trunk in the meantime. _Freaking. Stupid. Flat-ear. I’m a fucking ersatz?! How are you better than me?! How can I do more?!_ She felt the tears menacing to come back. She scolded herself, wiping them fiercely. _You ask for that, I told you not to be your stupid self._ She looked back to the sky, face adamant. She considered the movement of the stars. She stretched her neck and whispered between gritted teeth.

“Time’s up.”

* * *

 

After looking for ten good minutes around the Camp, Varric and Cassandra came back empty handed. With her stealth, they had absolutely no idea of the direction she took. The rest of the party was still left out of the thing, even if they were all sensing something was wrong? Only not realizing the something wrong was a missing Herald. Varric and Cassandra finally asked Solas if, as a mage, he could somehow sense her. He nodded and stood, a bit worried than they had not been able to find her. He had hoped she would come back by herself after few minutes. As skillful as she was, the area was dangerous and she clearly was not in _cautious mode_ right now. Maybe she just needed her space, but he had the urgent need to make amend, if such thing was even possible.

He did not correct them on the how he was able to track her which had nothing to do with sensing her magic. He could not track _her_ , he could track the Anchor. The thing was a real beacon.

When the Anchor dragged them back inside of Redcliffe, he chastised himself for even wanting to frown. Of course, she was upset and this Felix was apparently a friend of her. Ironic. His jealousy had made him angry and his harsh words pushed her to look for the company of the man he was jealous of in a first place. The only thought of the man comforting her made him want to burn buildings.

But the Anchor did not lead him to the tavern as he expected. His jealousy fled as the location got clearer and was replaced by a wave of deep fear. He looked alarmed to Cassandra and Varric before breaking into a fast jog.

“Slow down, Chuckles! What is it?!”

“She is in the Castle!”

“What?!”

The three of them sped up, everything Mahariel and Bull reported about Alexius coming back to their minds. The man wanted her dead. The absence of guards outside the gates did nothing to ease their mind.

Weapons drawn, they nothing but knock down the door of the hall. Their eyes took in the scene with shock. Corpses of Venatori all around, Dorian and Mahariel facing Alexius, staves ready to attack. And what looked like a black hole opening and swallowing both of them.

* * *

 

Mahariel and Dorian stumbled in the foul water. They barely got time to blink that two Venatori were on them. Dorian wrapped them instantly in a barrier as Mahariel casted a winter grasp on a first one. She drove the blade of her staff in the frozen body, bursting it. The second suffered an electricity energy barrage from Dorian before the Tevinter called a lightning on him. Mahariel finished him with her blade. The immediate danger being dealt with, she took a look around.

“Bloody hell, where are we?!”

Her eyes stopped on the red crystals invading the space. She stepped back with awe. The Red Lyrium was bursting from the walls like a disease. The foulness of the air and the water around her feet made her retched. Dorian was thoughtful next to her.

“Displacement? Interesting. It’s probably not what Alexius intended. The rift must have move us…To what? The closest confluence of arcane energy?” Mahariel frowned and forced herself to calm. The Tevinter was right on at least one thing, panicking was not going to help.

“Last thing I remember, we were in the castle hall.” He kneeled to examine the dark liquid and she gagged again. How could his nose go so close to it without him vomiting?

“Let’s see. If we are still in the castle, it isn’t…Oh! Of course! It is not simply where – it’s when! Alexius used the amulet as a focus. It moved us through time!”

Her eyes widened again and she stepped back. Her back collided with the Red Lyrium. She jumped on the side as she felt the sick tingling of its corrupted energy. How could he assess that with such calm?! Of course, he mentioned the time magic before and it did not move her that much, the theory even made sense but the perspective of having been moved through time…It terrified her. And she had not been terrified of anything in a long-time. It was so wrong. Her jaw dropped, eyes wild. Her emotions were already all over the place before, _this_ was not helping her gain back some cold blood. Her hand reached for her pendant as all her years of training fled her mind.

“Fen’harel halani em, tell me this is Daern’thal messing with me.” She looked at a bewildered Dorian. She did not even care for her Dalish accent or words “WE HAVE TO GO BACK! NOW! DO SOMETHING!”

“Calm down, breathe. We first have to look around, see where the rift took us. Then, we can figure how to get back…If we can.”

“IF?! YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN AND YOU SAY IF?! What kind of Danh’direlan are you, shem?! Oh Creators…”

Dorian put his hands on her shoulders to force her to look at him. He left aside his surprise to find her sounding so much Dalish out of nowhere. She might as well be born in a clan and have joined the city later. Peculiar, but why not. There was a story there, obviously, but it was not the time for it.

“Herald, focus. I understand how you feel. I’ve had years to come to peace with the idea of _this_ being possible. You did not. But you have to breathe and calm down. And slow down with the elvhen, I don’t understand half you are saying.”

She took few deep breathes and her face turned grim. Yes, of course, he was right. No time for another emotional breakdown. Her eyes became sharp and murderous. After a minute to put her fear in the back of her mind, she finally nodded.

“Right. Sorry, Altus. Let’s get moving.”

He nodded, relieved to see she was back to business. He took his hands back. She looked at the door of the jail and grunted. She could pick the lock but it would take time. She put her need to retch aside as she looted around. She finally put her hand on the key. Now, they could get moving.

There was a corridor of empty cells ahead of them. As in the one they were, Red Lyrium was everywhere. This place felt so wrong. They took some stairs only to arrive in more cells. Their movements were complicated by the pumping crystals which grew everywhere.

“Alexius has made a dreadful mess of this place, hasn’t he?” She was about to snap at him but thought better of it. Better some chitchat to keep her mind away from what was in front of her eyes.

“I did not see this part of the castle before.”

“It was covered in the tackiest carvings of wolves and dogs I’d ever seen. This is not an improvement.”

“Mabari.”

“Excuse me?”

“’Twas no dogs on the carvings. They were mabari.” He raised a brow.

“Isn’t that a breed of dogs?”

“Oh, my poor man, never say that in Ferelden. Mabari are glorious war hound, no _dogs_.”

“Do I hear a soft spot for the _doglords_ culture, Apprentice?” She smirked faintly.

“Maybe.”

They arrived in a wide room with metal fence on the ground, letting see the promise of a displeasing fall under it. Two other Venatori were there. She sighed with relief. Finally, something to kill. Dorian’s barrier fell over them as she placed an immolate under the two guards. Taken aback, they cried under the burning – maybe more of surprise than actual pain. They drew their swords and rushed towards the mages. Mahariel grinned sadistically and disappeared in stealth. Dorian casted a chain lightnings on the both of them. An ice mine appeared towards them and burst under their feet. They fell loudly on the rear. Mahariel reappeared and pressed her boots against the throat of one. A sickening crack resounded as she broke his neck. She leapt astride the other and froze his limbs with a gesture. Slowly and painfully, she thrusted her blade through his armor. She held his gaze as blood spurted from his torso. She drilled his lung and looked viciously the life leaving oh-so-slowly his eyes. Dorian looked at her, puzzled with awe.

“I had my doubts earlier, but you certainly look like a countrywoman right now.”

She jumped on her feet and did not answer. Fear had this effect on her. Turning her into the ruthless assassin she was known to be. Anger and bloodlust would be useful in there.

They went through other stairs on the other side of the room. Going done, her ear suddenly flinched as she heard a voice nearby. She frowned as she sped up her pace. The voice was…singing? In elvhen? _Melava inan enansal, ir su aravel tu elvaral._ She knew this song. She suddenly froze few inches away from the door leading to the cells.

“NO.”

More than the song, she knew this voice. Dorian looked at her as she remained still, afraid of going through the door and acknowledging it was the same voice. Older than the last time she heard it but…NO. Her eyes became blurry as her feet broke into a rush by their own will. She passed the door and she saw her. The young elf with jet-black hair, sitting against the wall of a cell. Red Lyrium way too close to her. She froze again as she whispered.

“Analen.”

The elf’s head spun to her and she scowled before her eyes widened.

“Mahariel? Is that you? The shemlen said you were dead!”

Mahariel fell on her knees as her sister stood to come closer to the door of her cell. Her skin and eyes had a sick red glowing aura. Dorian glanced with distress from one to another, not understanding at all what was happening, except for the part where the Herald was obviously losing it. She nothing but crawled to the door, her hands shaking as she began to pick the lock. Hopefully it was an easy one. Her face was dropped, her eyes bloodshed as tears were drowning her face. She nothing but babbled.

“What…What…. How do you…”

The lock finally gave up and Analen fell on her knees to take her sister in her arms, still not believing she was alive.

“They said you were dead. I knew I could not believe them so I came to Haven. But, then…”

The young elf’s voice was trembling, giving a vague idea of the ordeal, she had been through. Dorian gave her fifteen years, something like that. His eyes narrowed as he was trying to see her eyes. Despite the glowing red, he could guess a bright blue color. Without the green nuance of Mahariel’s ones but the lagoon blue was peculiar enough to make him suspect a sibling. Kaffas. And, Mahariel? Wasn’t she called…Oh Maker, this was becoming so complicated. Analen resumed, parting slightly from the angsty embrace of Mahariel.

“I made it to the Frostbacks when I ran into a mage. I explained him who I was and where I was trying to go. I think he knew you because he instantly told me to stay with him…I did not understand but then, I saw them…The Red peoples everywhere…And…”

The following of her sentence lost itself in a weep. A voice resounded from a cell behind, tainted with endless pain.

“Mahariel? You are alive? I saw you die!”

She started at Solas’ voice. Focused as she was on her sister, she did not even realize he was in the cell across. Her eyes widened as she spun to look at him and saw the same red glowing around him. Her tears doubled – if it was even possible. Last time she saw him she wanted to rip his throat. Now, her throat was tightened, almost chocking her. Analen, now him. She could not take it. Dorian took his chance of finding out pieces of information.

“The spell Alexius casts displaced us in time. We just got here, so to speak.”

Solas proceeded the new with remarkable quickness and looked at Dorian with hope.

“Can you reverse the process? You can return on obvious events of the last year, it may not be too late!”

Dorian nodded, Mahariel enable to say anything. Solas looked back at her and his voice broke with pain as he saw how broken she was, her sister tight in her arms.

“I’m so sorry, lethallan…I tried to put her to safety…I failed you.” She glanced from one to the other with distress.

“A year? Solas…How…How did it come to this in one year? Oh creators, how could I not be here…”

Analen took gently the lock-pick from her sister’s hands to go open his cell. She did it swiftly and came back to her. Solas kneeled in front of her as well and put his hands on her shoulders gently.

“Mahariel, look at me. It is not too late. _This_ can be undone. _You_ can undo this.” She sobbed.

“You are dying from the corruption! Both of you! Oh Gods, where are the other, are they…”

She could not even breathe anymore. Her throat was too tight, her limbs were weak, she could not stop crying. Solas stroked her jaw with extensive tenderness. Dorian felt almost uncomfortable, feeling like he was not supposed to witness that. Despite the glowing red of his eyes, the earnest feelings of the man towards her were obvious. He brought her chin up to make her look at him.

“Some are dead, but you will find other alive and ready to help. Arasha, you will make this right. I _know_ you will.”

She held her gaze through her blurry eyes. Her features softened as she heard the endearment. Arasha. My happiness. She took some deep breathes and her hand reached for his. She closed her eyes to blow the air and then glanced to Analen. In other circumstances, she would have said something about how the world must be about to end if her sister wasn’t teasing. But…Well. Her other hand reached for her pendant, the first not letting Solas’ go. She could still save them. It was not too late. Seeing she was pulling it together, Solas gave a smile and gently took his hand back, pulling Analen away too. Mahariel looked at him, a bit dumbfounded. He met her eyes ruefully.

“We are sick. I shall not allow us to infect you.”

* * *

 

Cassandra, Varric, Sera and Leliana were in the castle, alive, as well. Bull, Blackwall, Vivienne, Josephine and Cullen were dead. The one when running into Analen and Solas was her final breakdown. The tears were punctually coming back afterwards but she channeled everything in anger. Her rage was growing each time she saw another of her friends or heard the story of yet another horrible death. Or when she saw the Breach taking the whole sky. Her father and the Keeper were dead too. No one knew anything else about clan Lavellan. They just knew for the one who actually tried to reach Haven to catch Analen. What happened in the Free Marches was unknown, even if there was no way it was good.

She was raging mad, even raving lunatic at some point, broken on the inside. Her heart ached and retched at every single step. She was yearning for two heads: Alexius’ and the Elder One’s. Whoever the hell was the second. Dorian was doing better but he was thanking the Maker for not having to fell on people he cared for. He did not know Calessia – Mahariel, or whatever was her name – but he sympathized with her. He could not imagine what he would feel if he was in her place. Better not knowing what happened to his people in this dark future.

They finally vanquished the mechanism of the throne room. Mahariel entered inside, her stance threatening and ominous. Alexius was standing on the dais, his back towards the party.

“It’s over Alexius.”

“So, it is. I knew you’d appear again. Not that it would be now. But I knew I had not destroyed you. My final failure.” She snapped.

“ _I_ am the only damn thing you did _not_ destroy! Are you going to tell me _that_ is what you wanted?! You _destroyed_ the world you delusional idiotic bitch! Na din’an sahlin Danh’direlan!” _Your death is coming, moron!_

“Was it worth it? Everything you did to the world? To yourself?” Took over Dorian.

“It doesn’t matter now. All we can do is wait for the end.” She snorted.

“You won’t have to wait long, be assured.” He nothing but ignored her and chuckled without mirth.

“The irony that you should appear now, of all the possibilities. All that I fought for, all that I betrayed, and what have I wrought? Ruin and death. There is nothing else. The Elder One comes. For me. For you. For us all.”

Mahariel was going to spat at him when Leliana came out of stealth and grabbed a man sitting on the ground she did not have noticed until now. The spymaster was threatening his throat with a dagger. Alexius cried in alarm. Dorian and Mahariel looked at each other with awe to the name he used. Dorian’s voice rose in anger.

“ _That_ ’s Felix?! Maker’s breath, Alexius, what have you done?”

“He would have died, Dorian! I _saved_ him!” Mahariel replied.

“Wasn’t that enough?!” She pointed the entire room, the red Lyrium. “ _He_ deserved better. The world deserved better!” Her voice almost broke again as she glanced towards her party. She could not make eye-contact with any of them.

“Release him. I’ll do anything you ask.” Mahariel declared, dark.

“No.” Leliana stared at Alexius, answering the pleading too, as dark and ominous as Mahariel.

“I want the world back.”

She cut the throat with a wild and loathing gesture.

The fight finally began. Arrows and bolts were falling on him from Leliana, Sera, Analen and Varric. Ice, fire and lightnings were relentless as well, Cassandra’s sword finishing to overwhelm the Magister. He soon began to open rifts in the room.

Mahariel avoided the dark claws of the terror, rolling on the side. She jumped on her feet. An arrow drilled the demon’s shoulder. She casted an immolate under it and wielded her spiritual blade. She rushed on it, yelling a war cry. The terror dissipated in the air. She was covered in dark sticky substance.

The time around her distorted again as she leapt. It made her head dizzy and she stumbled as she landed. Cassandra caught her elbow to steady her. She thanked her with a glance and froze the shadow next to them both. The Seeker finished the job and Mahariel held her hand high to close the rift above them. She spun on her heel to face Alexius once again. The man was out of breath. It was not going to take long, now.

* * *

 

“NO!”

Cassandra, Varric and Solas were staring at the now empty spot with awe. Except for the cry of distress of Solas, there was a silence of death in the room. They did not have time to react that a new rift appeared, along with Dorian and Mahariel.

She did not even see them. She turned right away to Alexius, her eyes red and swollen of the tears, her cheeks still wet, her hands shaking. Her voice came out in a low growl her party barely recognized.

“Ar tu na’lin, harellan.”

If only one person understood her words, the intend was clear as a raindrop to everyone. Dorian stepped between her and the Magister. With the pumping blood in her head she barely made out what he said. She growled again.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way.”

“Don’t kill him, Herald. He surrendered.”

“Fuck that! You saw what I saw!”

“He _did not_ do it. He will never do it.”

She held his gaze and seriously considered killing him too. But the slightest part of reason she had left was shouting it was not right. She burst.

“To the Void with you! Do what the bloody hell you want!”

She disappeared in stealth instantly and she was out of the Castle within a handful of seconds. Cassandra, Varric and Solas hesitated, looking from one-side to the others. They pursued their lips with frustration settling for _duty_. They approached the Magister, not sure what was happening, but having effectively heard the man surrendered. Cassandra handcuffed him with a rope as they were all pressing Dorian with question about what was happening with Mahariel. Dorian’s nose wrinkled, obviously not sure what she wanted to share with them. At least he was able to recognize them. That was a start.

“I…Think she just had the shittiest day you can picture.” Varric glanced at Solas accusingly.

“Yes, that we knew. What’s new, where did you disappear?”

“Oh, it was already a bad day before _that_? Maker, poor thing actually might have had the shittiest day of the history of shitty day. To make it quick, the rift sent us through time. In the future.” Their eyes widened. “It was…a possible future, the future of one year from now if…Well, if the Herald had died today. That was not good, as you can imagine.” The mage shivered a bit to the vivid memories of what just happened.

Cassandra processed quickly his words, not wanting to think too extensively about the all _travel through time_ thing. She finally assessed.

“Varric, go grab any Inquisition forces you see to take care of the Magister. Solas, go find her and make sure she is okay.” Varric snorted bitterly.

“She is not.” Dorian hesitated but intervened.

“Maybe…I should go with you, Solas. I am the only one who was with her there.” Felix glanced at him with dilemma as well. He wanted to go with them but was not going to let his father like this. Dorian reassured him “Don’t worry, I can handle our friend.” Cassandra and Varric frowned. _Friend?_ Cassandra spoke up.

“I don’t trust you.” Solas nodded.

“Agreed.” Varric rolled his eyes.

“C’mon Chuckles, Seeker. What point does have Sparkler here to propose himself to cheer her up? If he wanted her dead, he would have already make his move, considering…Whatever the hell just happened. Besides, I’m not convinced Chuckles is the best suited on cheer up duty.” Dorian looked at him, dark.

“This is not cheer up, dwarf. You have no idea what she just went through.“ Cassandra grunted.

“Fine. Solas, don’t leave him out of your sight.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ar tu na'lin - I'm going to kill you  
> Harellan - traitor  
> Fen'harel halani em - Dread Wolf help me  
> Danh'Direlan - Idiot  
> Daern'thal - One of the Forgotten Ones. Associated with nightmares.


	14. Ready to move on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you notice, Redcliffe has been very trying for Mahariel. Let’s go work on that and on this argument with Solas which turned quite poorly, considering. Thanks for reading!   
> Additional translations in the end notes.

* * *

 

Mahariel drained all of her mana in fade walking to get away from the town. She eventually stopped by an Inquisition camp to grab a horse and rode at full speed for a good hour until she reached the former templar camp. She dismounted to go sit near the waterfall.

She finally allowed herself to breathe and, quickly, to burst into sobs. This was officially the worst day of her life. A day which felt like it lasted forty-eight hours, actually. Beginning with Mihris who called her  _harellan_ , discovering the mess of Redcliffe, her Tevinter cover which was that close to burst, the fight with Solas, and the trip to the future.

She had seen the destruction of the world. She had witnessed the death of her sister, of Cassandra, Varric, Leliana, Sera. And Solas. She could not send her mind away from the image.

_He stepped between the terror and Analen, the claws reaching for his heart. She cried but Dorian prevented her to move. His head had turned to look at her, so full of untold feelings. His lips had moved a last time without words coming out, his hand stretching as if to stroke her jaw one last time. The shadows coming on the flank, sinking through Analen, the cry of ultimate pain of the young elf, her pleading, terrified eyes. The yells everywhere._

She could not shake the images away. She could not shake any of this away.

She wanted to forget, she wanted to sleep but she could not proceed any of the two. How could she? Instead, she stayed there, silently sobbing, her head in her laps. She felt like a child. Her ear flinched. She did not even bother to look.

"Go away."

"Lethallan…"

She froze. Solas. It just  _had_  to be him. She did not even know what she wanted to tell him. If she wanted to yell at him for his words of earlier? If she wanted to hug him because, dammit, he was alive and it was all that mattered? Fenedhis, she wanted so badly to hug him…No, she was not going to forget what happened before. Ironic how this very fight had influenced his future him, by the way. She raised her head and looked at him with the most heinous look she could manage through the tears.

"Go away.  _Flat-ear._ " Solas froze, few steps away. His eyes seemed hurt. Good. He whispered.

"You never called me that." She snorted.

"You never called me an ersatz." He closed his eyes. How much he wished he had never said that. He did not even think that. Not about her, at least.

"I'm so sorry, lethallan, I did not – "

"Yes, you did. GO. AWAY."

She had not even seen Dorian behind him until the moment where he put his hand on Solas' shoulder.

"Maybe  _I_  should give it a try, what do you think?"

Solas' nose wrinkled but he nodded and withdrew towards the templars' camp. Dorian sat next to Mahariel, already taking her not snapping at him as a victory. She still glared at him. He decided to ignore.

"Tough day, hum?" She frowned and glanced towards the camp, pointing her ear with a finger. He nodded and soundproofed them. That did not make her talk, however. He sighed "Let's take over properly. Am I to call you Mahariel or Calessia? I'm a bit at lost."

Her nose wrinkled. Fuck. This vint had heard way too much in the future.

"My first name is Mahariel." That was no lie. It simply made implicit a lie. Not her fault if he was to assume Calessia was her last name. "I don't use it back in Tevinter. A bit too…Elven." He sighed.

"I can see why you'd rather not. Sadly."

"Just as I don't tend to use the too Tevene Calessia here." Added she, tone neutral but the implicit threat clear enough. He nodded and repeated.

"I can see why you'd rather not. Want to talk about what happened?"

"It  _did not_  happen. It…will would have had happened." She winced at the newfound overcomplicated tense. He chuckled faintly.

"I see your point. However, it might not have happened, but we  _did_  experience it."

"You don't have to do that, Dorian. You don't know me. And I absolutely do  _not_  want to talk or think about that." He nodded.

"Fair enough. What about you tell me what it is with this Solas fella?" She frowned.

"There is nothing to talk about."

"Isn't it? Considering how he was looking at you back  _then_ , I seriously thought there  _was_  something." She waved the thought.

"Before I came to you, we had a fight. It kind of lead me to act tonight. Back  _then_ , future Solas considered the said fight – ergo  _he –_ led to my death. Whatever you saw, it had been a way to beat himself down, to sublimate the guilt. These feelings never existed in this timeline." He raised an amused brow.

"You definitely rationalized the thing. I don't buy the conclusion, however." She frowned.

"Don't buy the conclusion if you want, but let's be clear: if you mention  _that_  or  _anything_  to the others – You cannot even pronounce the name Calessia and – Creators, if you ever mention Analen, you will wish you were dead! Fasta vass, would have been easier if I hadkilled you already! Now this is fucked up!"

The threatening tone startled him. He pursued his lips, feeling weirdly like he was actually lucky she did _not._ He held his hands in surrender.

"Easy. Believe me, I'm not more eager than you are to speak about it. I wanted to join anyway. You can keep an eye on me if you don't trust me." Her features relaxed a bit.

"'Tis not that I don't trust  _you_. I don't trust anyone with that."

"Or with you being Dalish." Her nose wrinkled.

"I'm  _born_  Dalish. Does not mean I am now."

"Fair enough. You have a lot about me too, anyway. Things I'd rather stayed in the North." Her lips curved slightly.

"Don't spill my secrets I won't spill yours?"

"That's a deal, my dear." He paused "You should talk to Solas. Not hard to say the man is miserable." She frowned.

"He deserves it."

"Maybe, but maybe there is more to this fight than you know and he truly did not mean whatever he said? He would not look at you with such pleading, apologetic eyes, without that."

" _Or_  he is an ass."

" _Or_  he is an ass. But even so, you will talk to him because only an ass you like could have get to you in such extent." She raised a brow.

"You really want me to punch you, don't you?"

"Maker, not the face! It would be a crime to alter such perfection!"

* * *

She finally found some restless hours of sleep, her head falling on Dorian's shoulder. Despite some attempts from the elf, she nothing but refused to hear what Solas had to say. She had had enough of personal drama. The three of them left the deserted camp at first lights to return to Redcliffe. It would be two hours of hard ride to get there and they still had to deal with the mages.

They arrive barely a handful of seconds after a large escort. Mahariel frowned as she came closer, spotting an incredibly uncomfortable Cassandra talking with a blond man, the Grand Enchantress Fiona, Varric, Bull and Blackwall few steps behind them. Mahariel hesitated, not knowing if she was welcome in the exchange. The expression of the Seeker as she laid eyes on her answered easily.

"Thank the Maker, you are here!"

Every head spun towards her. Her back straightened as she wielded a polite smile. She nodded slightly to Cassandra.

"I'm here, Seeker. Please, excuse the delay." She examined quickly the blond man who was raising an eyebrow at her and bowed "King Alistair. This is an honor, your Majesty." He turned back at the Seeker.

"And this is?"

"The Herald, your Majesty."

"I see. I would gladly say this is a pleasure, but the circumstances prevent such words. Grand Enchantress." He sighed and pinched his nose "I wanted to help you. I really wanted to. But you made that impossible – "

He went on and nothing but kicked the rebel mages out of Ferelden. Mahariel stepped in, and offered an alliance to the mages. She ignored Cassandra's scowl. They could discuss the why later. Considering her reaction, the seeker did not want to be the one to make that call anyway. Alistair quickly withdrew, having obviously no want to linger there. Mahariel spoke a bit longer with the Grand Enchantress before returning to her party. Cassandra filled her in concerning Magister Alexius. She also transmitted the goodbyes of Felix to Dorian and her both, the man apologizing but being unable to delay his travel back to Tevinter, considering the…events he had to relate to the Magisterium.

They returned to the camp, readying themselves for the trip back to Haven. She took Cassandra apart a time to discuss the decision she had just made. The Seeker was not pleased by it, that much was obvious. However, she took one, which was the important point, and Cassandra respected her for that.

Mahariel had a point, prisoners would not work well for their jailers. She quickly indicated that she expected a close and discreet watch on the mages. Her choice was, above all, strategic. They needed power. Power she did not think the templars could provide. Their new allies were not above suspicion, far from it. The mages were acting like silly apprentices, and they were taking poor decisions. They did not know how to be free. They deserved to be, but were obviously not ready. She hoped that the Inquisition could provide them the guidance they needed without the Chantry leash. Cassandra nodded at that, satisfied to see their Herald had not taken such decision lightly.

After the whole business talk, the Seeker tried to investigate how she was doing but Mahariel was back to her usual self. It was, actually, even worst. Mask perfect and witty tongue dodging questions. Any kind of opening she had had during the last months seemed far behind. Cassandra felt like she was back in front of this  _Qunari_ elf. She could not do a lot about that. She decided not to mention what Varric, Solas and herself had learnt from the letters. Not for now, at least.

With Dorian coming along, it was a good thing she had found another horse the night before. Considering, they could leave right away.

* * *

They were back in Haven the last week of Drakonis.

The first days were dedicated to discussions with Cullen, Josephine and Leliana to prepare for the arrival of the mages. The party had been quicker to make the journey back but they shall arrive soon. They needed to be up to welcome them and to provide beds and food for their new allies.

Her agents had sneaked some orders to Alexius, in order to keep their stories consistent. For all he despised her, she knew he will respect them, for Tevinter's best interest. She had had to accept that she could not kill him. Not yet. Oran would have a hard-time proceeding without getting caught. Even passing a note had been horrifyingly complicated with Leliana's scouts around. Sneaking into the prison and, more important, escaping…They could not take the chance of the Nightingale's capturing one of them.

Mahariel used this little calm before the storm to check on everyone she had lately recruited. A good way to keep her mind away from what happened. She stopped by Vivienne, Sera, Bull and the Chargers, Blackwall. She checked with Belle – the merchant from Val Royeaux – to know how were the supplies line. Everyone seemed to be doing fine.

When she talked with Belle, the merchant surprised her by giving her two way-too-pink boxes with a simple explanation explaining nothing.

"You did not see the finest of Val Royeaux, my Lady Herald. Let me introduce you some of it."

Mahariel raised an eyebrow and was about to open the boxes when Belle stopped her with a hand.

"Vultures are everywhere. Open it in private."

_Er…Orlesians_. She had to confess she was a bit curious. She considered she had some free-time and decided to head to the abandoned cottage she had found outside of Haven.

* * *

Solas was pacing up and down inside his cottage. He was trying to consider his own agenda. They were going to close the Breach under no time, now that the mages were on their side. Then, he would take off and come back to his own plans. Plans he was trying to examine with no success. His mind kept coming back to Mahariel.

They had barely exchanged a word. She had not been rude to him, just wonderfully formal. She made clear she was not going to discuss anything not business-related with him. He was concerned about her. He had a hard time blaming her for acting like this with him. But, she had been acting like that with everyone since Redcliffe. She never let the mask fall, even the slightest. Even speaking with Varric or Sera, not a single of her laugh had been truthful.

She had grown close to Dorian extremely fast, which was also a…displeasing side effect of their shared ordeal. Still, her mask remained always with him too. He missed so much her smiles and laughs. The true ones, not the ones she was giving as part as her constant Grand-Game play. The ones which were warming his heart, tingling his skin, breaking his own composure. And this giggle…He had heard it but twice and was not only a little proud to have been the one earning them…He missed her, actually. Their talks, her curiosity, her witty tongue, the unique perspective she had in this broken world…She seemed…Faded, since Redcliffe. The light of life in her eyes was darkened.

Even Blackwall, with the couple of hours he had had to know her, could confirm how much the experience had changed in the Herald. The ride had been uncomfortable. For whatever reasons, Solas was unable to access her dreams. He was yearning for a way to help her. That was the least he could do before their paths were to part.

He decided to go take a walk outside of the town to clear his mind. He should not care. He should not care at all about her. How could he be so unwise? Yet, he was feeling reluctant to the idea of leaving and a part of him could not bear the thought of leaving without fixing things with her. Without making her, at least, hear his apologies out. Because she did not even let him a chance to apologize.

He froze when he spotted her on the roof. Her legs were swinging freely on the edge. As usual when in Haven, she was wearing an antaam-saar. She stretched her arms and he felt a quiver in his spine.  _So, that was what it looked like in this outfit…_ He suddenly wished she would wear something else. He was distracted enough as it was and he had noticed the…Appreciative looks of other men on her. He chastised himself on the inside.  _Who are you to be possessive?_

"Hello, Solas."

Her voice resounded, cold as an icicle as she smiled politely. It cut his thoughts and he cleared his throat.

"Hello, Herald."

She did not give him more attention as she seemed suddenly particularly interested in the branch of a tree nearby. He sighed on the inside. Well, she had not disappeared in stealth yet. Good start. He resumed.

"Herald, would you mind if I joined you?" She raised an eyebrow and gestured him nonchalantly to do as he wished. He climbed the roof to sit next to her, letting a good arm length between them.

"Lethallan, I really want to apo – "

"We are fine, Solas. Don't bother."

"No, we are not. Can you hear me out? Sathan, lethallan." She sighed but gestured again. "I'm so sorry for what I said. This was unfair and cruel. Believe me when I say I did not mean it."

"You did."

He frowned and extended his arm to bring her chin towards him. She startled and her back straightened at the sudden contact, remembering her too much of future Solas. He locked her gaze and took her hands in his. His eyes were apologetic and pleading.

"I did  _not_. I used to think that, this is true. But I did not intend to include  _you_  in these cruel words. I should never have said them, no one should say that about anyone. But, at the very least, I was  _never_  talking about  _you_ personally."

She looked deep into his storm-blue eyes, which seemed so genuine and full with guilt. Dorian…was right. He certainly did seem miserable. She remained silent and thoughtful as she took back her hands to look at the horizon. The silence remained until he made a move to leave. Then, she declared.

"I'm glad you are alive." His eyes widened as he sat back and looked at her, somewhere between grateful and questioning. She sighed and turned back to him. "In…The future. I…You died in front of me." She closed her eyes with pain " _for me_ …And…I'm just glad you are alive."

She shook her head, thinking she should not have said that. You don't tell someone that you saw him died when you traveled through time.

"I am not the only one you saw die, am I wrong?"

"No." The word was final. She resumed, dropping the subject. "And I should not have slapped you. There was more truth in your words than I wanted and I reacted as someone desperate for arguments she could not find." He allowed himself a slight chuckle.

"For what it's worth, you certainly have a good hook. I pity your opponents." She laughed faintly.

"For what it's worth, I hurt as much my hand as I hurt your jaw. Your bones are remarkably solid." He raised an amused brow.

"Thank you. I think." She grinned.

"I do the best compliment, don't I?" He laughed.

"True." He looked at the pink boxes, still closed next to her, and glanced at her questioningly.

"Oh that? I forgot them. Don't know what's in it, the merchant we found in Val Royeaux gave them to me. Care to find out?"

She extended her arm to reach the boxes and put them between them. She opened one only to find…cakes. Weird colorful frilly little cakes. She raised an eyebrow.

"That…was unexpected." Her eyes were almost suspicious.

"I think they are meant to be eaten" Commented he with the hint of a smile, seeing her reaction. She growled.

"Sure about that? They seem way too Orlesian to be trusted." He chuckled and selected a very blue one with raspberry pink frosting.

"You lived in Orlais, it surprises me you never tasted such pastries." She smirked.

" _I_ was more on the side where you poison the pastries than on the side where you eat them." He chuckled.

"I see." He took a little mouthful to demonstrate his point. "They are harmless, and tasteful if I may add."

He leaned it in front of her mouth for her to give it a try. He was smirking with playfulness in his eyes. She did not even try to mutter her giggle for once. She had missed that. She took a mouthful and her eyes widened.  _Damn, the thing is good._ She swallowed and glanced at him. The man was obviously satisfied.

"Granted,  _this_  kind of Orlesian is not that bad." He nodded.

"I do enjoy these frilly little cakes. Sad thing they are so hard to find out of Val Royeaux."

"Indeed. So, which one is next?" Answered she eagerly. He chuckled and looked back at the box to select another one. He gave her one with a brown-copper color. She took a mouthful. Her face spun to him with wide eyes. "What is it?"

"Praline and milk chocolate."

"Hum…Weird. There was chocolate in Tevinter but it was bitter."

"It was likely dark chocolate."

"Why am I not surprised they found a way to have a dark version of a sweet?"

The light atmosphere remained a good time as they went through an entire box. They agreed to keep the second to celebrate once the Breach was closed. She spotted the sparkle of sadness in his eyes, despite his best efforts to keep it from her. She frowned with a questioning look before information hit home. She bit her bottom lip, thoughtful.

"There is no  _after_  the Breach is closed, is it?" He could not look at her and his gaze went lost in the horizon. He spoke in a low voice.

"No."

"I see." Her voice had the slightest hurt and disappointed hint in it. She shook her head, her voice even the second after. "I shall not linger either, anyway." He was lost in his thoughts few seconds before asking.

"Where will you go?"

"Tevinter." Answered she without flinching.

"Isn't your assignment there over?" Her features remained unreadable as she ignored the too accurate assumption.

"I have nowhere else to go." She could feel his hesitating gaze on her. She waved it "I know you know, don't bother. I was the one stupid enough to let the letters fall. If I may…Who else?"

"Varric and Cassandra. Lethallan, why did they banish you? Because you are with the Inquisition?"

She had to give him the credit of a valiant effort to keep the disdain away from his voice.

"I told them to." Replied she truthfully. His eyes widened.

"Why?"

"I have enemies, as you noticed. This all attention on someone like me…'Tis no good. The Crows made the connection, other probably too. They will not just go after me. You heard Venicio. If I have been banished, it may keep people from digging on the Dalish side for kin. I suspected they had the banishment ready anyway." She laughed bitterly. "I just did not realize it was ready since the very day I left."

"What said the letter?"

"It does not matter." Stated she, unquestionable. "Turns out, if the future of Redcliffe taught me anything, 'tis that I was a fool. I cannot protect them."

She looked rueful and exhausted as she finished under her breath. Her unusual honesty moved him as he finally understood why she had seemed so broken since Redcliffe. She had made her life-mission to protect her people. And she had seen it fail. He could relate. But she had not the luxury of years to grieve. And he was not to let her suffer a failure she managed to prevent. A failure which would not have been hers anyway. He reached for her hands.

"You  _are_  protecting them. And not just them, all of Thedas.  _This_ future will never happen, Mahariel." She stared deep into his eyes. As they had in the Future, they could make her believe that everything was going to be fine. She was thoughtful a time before letting out.

"You protected her."

"Who?"

"There… _Then._  You tried to save – You know what, it does not matter." She shook her head energetically, chastising her for even thinking about telling him that. "You are right, it won't happen and it must be displeasing to hear about a future where you died."

He smiled softly and traced her jaw. She looked at him, bewildered as a vision of the future him doing that replaced him. She felt tears threatening to fill her eyes.  _Don't you dare weep, stupid child. Or hug him. I don't care how stupid I'll look for slapping myself, I swear I'll do it if you hug him._

"You can talk to me, lethallan. If you want." She blinked to chase the tears away and gave him a small smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

"I…Ma serannas, lethallin. I'd rather not talk about it now."

"Ma nuvenin."

His glance went dangerously down to her lips. He dropped her hands and stepped back a bit with haste.  _What do you think you are doing?! This is not right, you are playing her! You will both go back to your lives and never cross paths again. Do not play her, she does not deserve that._  He could feel their magics, becoming a bit messy, kind of…Hesitating. He ignored supremely the arcane energies. He cleared his throat and spotted a convoy across the frozen lake.  _That_  was a lucky timing.

"Look, I believe the mages are arriving." She looked where he pointed and she composed her features.

"Indeed. We shall go welcome them before Cullen makes them flee with a glare."

* * *

Leliana waited for the others to leave the room. The only sign she gave Mahariel was a finger tapping casually the table. The Herald acknowledged the request and conformed, pretending to give a look at the mages' inventory as she stayed behind. She could have disregarded but her guess was, Leliana was losing patience. Mahariel put on a soundproof quickly. She let the gesture known voluntarily to the red-hair. She gave a single nod.

"Herald, I wanted to know what exactly happened when you first encounter the mages." Mahariel tilted genuinely her head.

"Did we forget anything in our reports?"

"Of course not. And you did say you did not face Fiona before Alexius, and my agents heard Redcliffe citizens whispering about the Herald of Andraste who came to save them from Tevinter. Something piqued my curiosity, however. Why the Iron Bull and Sera?"

"Investigating the Grey Warden required someone in charged. I considered Cassandra was the best suited." Leliana hummed, moving slightly around the table. Mahariel did not flinch. She was acting as she knew something, but it did not mean she did.

"In order to get the sympathy of the mages, wouldn't it have been useful to have Solas with you? Sera seems hardly the best suited to help these talks."

"Solas is our best healer. I'd rather have him with the party who was more likely to run into troubles. At any rate, I made known my condition as a mage when I walked into Redcliffe bearing a staff." Added she with the smirk of someone proud of their calculation.

"I never doubted you suddenly bearing one had some calculated reason behind it."

"You know me so well, Spymaster." Provoked Mahariel with a Grand-Game smile and a slight bow. Leliana simply smiled.

"One more thing. This Felix, what do you know of him?"

"I think Dorian is the one to ask. Except that he wanted the Venatori to fail, I won't be of any help."

"Dorian did speak of you as a common friend of them both." Mahariel shrugged.

"And why do you concern yourself with the way our newest member speaks?"

"Just curious. Especially because, despite his illness, my agents lost track of the lad quickly. His servants and him apparently ran into a Dalish mage and disappeared into the woods."

Mahariel looked at her, features unreadable. She was not here when Dorian said that, or she would have anticipated that this  _common friend_ of his would be enough for Leliana to follow Felix.

She needed him back to Tevinter, quickly. For all her ears there, she was lacking someone in the Magisterium to investigate how far the Venatori threat had expanded. Eventus, for all his  _moral support,_ was not going to take the chance to be affiliated to the southern Inquisition. Felix did not care, and he will keep her inform. He had no idea who she truly was, or who were the elves who helped him going back to Tevinter that fast. It did not matter. If anything, he would not share the secret of the eluvians when he did not know who to trust there. And she knew he will be dead before figuring that out. The effect of the Blight had been postponed by Alexius. Without his father, he will die before summer.

Her calculation had been simple: getting him back there to gather pieces of information while he still could. Mihris being the closest with the knowledge of the password, she had sent her. Felix's place in the Magisterium was weakened without Alexius, so, he would have no one but her own agents to rely on. With them always around and ready for a deathblow if he said too much. A cold plan for one of the few friends she had.

"How peculiar."

"You knew the Dalish mage."

"I know a lot of people."

"That's not quite an answer."

"That was not quite a question."

They held each other gaze for a long moment, none of them ready to step back. Leliana resumed.

"The messenger who came to you before you left. They disappeared the same way." Mahariel merely looked at her and spoke, voice even.

"Your point, Nightingale."

Leliana's nose wrinkled the slightest. She had none, and it was what was so frustrating. And if the straightforward answer said anything, Mahariel knew perfectly she was going nowhere with that. Mahariel noticed she was taking the advantage back. She sighed and finally back off, feigning defeat. Her features looked suddenly tired and rueful.

"Leliana, I happened to cross paths with both Mihris and this messenger. However, as you well know, they were  _both_  Dalish. I've not been in a long-time. They would not share any secrets they have with me." Leliana was not far from falling for it, Mahariel saw it in her eyes.

"You barely received the letter of banishment." Mahariel nodded.

"I did. But you saw the date on it. The Dalish do not care for such official paper, words are enough. They sent it only for the humans to know I'm not affiliated with them."

"Yet, they sent it to you."

"Banished or not, who do you think a Dalish prefer between the Andrastian  _shem_ you are and me?" The redhead narrowed her eyes.

"Why such reaction from you, then, if you had been in this place for so long?" Mahariel gave a small smile.

"The slightest cut, if aimed right, can re-open an old wound." This time, Leliana did fall for it.  _Hopefully, considering this part was truthful._

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I brought it to myself." Admitted Mahariel with a wince.

They exchanged greetings as Mahariel made her way out of the War Room.

_That was close._ She winced to herself. Once more, Solas could easily destroy whatever she just said.  _What is wrong with you? You have to stop letting him know more than the others – He could have said something about Mihris, he did not. He could have told about your magic the first time you met, he did not. The man knows how to keep a secret. – Better than you, obviously. Stop being an idiot, you cannot trust him, you cannot trust any of them._  She silenced the fight between her inner voices. Going down this way, it was doomed to end up with something like  _Why are you more reluctant to lie to him? Why do you want to trust him?_ And she did not want at all to consider these questions. It will be over soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sathan - Please


	15. In your heart shall burn - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma serannas for reading! Here we go for - Well, you know for what, title isn't exactly creative. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

 

She held the Anchor high, the energy pulling from her hand towards the Breach. She could feel the mages pouring into her, making her skin electric. The pain in her arm was sharp and stabbing. Her breathe was short. But she was not going to withdraw. No, it was now. The mark will never be so powerful, she had to make it.

A flash blinded the whole assembly. The eerie green drowned the whole Temple for a second. And disappeared.

She fell on her knees, chocking.  _Oh no, don't you dare black –_

This time she stayed out only for a couple hours.

She grunted as she woke up. She stretched quickly, happy to see her head was not dizzy. She was, actually, feeling good. Odd. Her eyes glanced to the mark. She was expecting for the damn thing to be painful. Her eyes widened with surprise. It was still here, of course, but it was back to the way it was after she stabilized the Breach the first time. Little bonus of closing this hole, apparently. It was not threatening the back of her hand anymore…Closing the Breach cicatrized it? She should ask Solas –  _Oh. Right. Fuck, how long did I sleep? Is he already gone?_  Her heart ached at the thought. She dismissed the feeling with a self-directed scowl.

She was still wearing her armor. Her gauntlets had been put off, however. She tidied herself up. Her white loosened braid falling on her right shoulder, her ear-wrap earring back in place and finally the gauntlets. A quick check told her the war-paints covering her vallaslin were still in place, even if faded. Daggers and throwing-knifes were on her belt. She steadied her staff on her back and checked her pack, resting against the wall. From the sounds outside, people were celebrating. She hesitated but decided not to leave right away. She would share few drinks – maybe an Orlesian cake if Solas was still around – and pass by to grab her pack.

She did not feel like fleeing like a thief. Not this time.  _Varric did say he was thinking about going back to the Free Marches. I wonder if he took a decision. We could as well travel together until there. Before I go on to Antiva._

She closed her eyes with a wince. That was a plan she had kept to herself. She had thought seriously to go back to Tevinter, but she had already dismissed the thought when she talked with Solas. Going back to Tevinter, but to what end? Without the Ben-Hassraths, she felt like there was no point. Worst, the idea was making her sick with herself. She had lied to these people for the last three years, spying on behalf of the Qun. How could she go back there like it was okay? Like she belonged there?

She did not belong anywhere, that was the whole point of her life. She could stay in Ferelden or Orlais but, then what? Resuming her job as the Banal'ras, leaving a train of corpses behind her, spying for the highest bidder and the Dalish? Fleeing each time the Crows find her? This was doomed. The face of the  _Herald of Andraste_  had spread in three months. Her agents could go on without her, Oran could take the lead. It was time to surrender to the Guild. With Venicio dead, they would be reasonable, they will take what she offered: her. They did not care of her kin or her connection to the Inquisition if not as a way to make her coming out of cover. She shook her head to chase the perspective of her imminent death and wielded a smile. It was time to celebrate, not to be all broody.

She almost bump into Solas who was about to knock on the door. She considered quickly the elf. He was obviously as ready as she was to take off. He lowered the hand who was about to knock, suppressing a smirk.

"Herald."  _And, back to all formal._ She nodded her greetings.

"Solas. You…needed something?"

"I wanted to know if you were alright. I checked the Anchor when you were asleep, it is stable." He paused and smirked "For needing something, I believe we had an agreement for tonight." She chuckled.

"Roof?"

"Don't you want to grant the people a glimpse of their savior?" She shrugged.

"I can go to the tavern later. They are all probably drunk anyway, I doubt –"

She stopped her words as the bell of the Chantry suddenly rang. They looked at each other and rushed without more thoughts towards the doors. Cullen was shouting orders. As the both of them made it to the Commander, Josephine, Leliana, Cassandra, Varric, Dorian, Blackwall, Vivienne, Sera and Bull also arrived from scattered directions. Their eyes widened as they saw the mountains. Torches indicated the presence of an army. A big army. Cassandra spoke first.

"Cullen?"

"One watchguard reporting. It's a massive force, the bulk are over the mountain."  _THAT is not the bulk? Oh, creators…_

"Under what banner?" asked Josephine.

"None."

They turned to him with disbelief. None? What the hell?! Mahariel started when a knock resounded on the door. She did not even think and took a step forward. The voice seemed…Familiar. She could not remember who or when but something about it pushed her to the door.

The aura around the young blond man was peculiar. It was not the magic of a mage, not exactly. She decided these considerations will have to wait. Who the hell was this Elder One? She already knew it was a powerful son of a bitch thanks to Redcliffe. She narrowed her eyes, as everyone else to see the creature.

"HOLY SHIT." Came Varric's comment whose the audience missed a good part of the implications. Mahariel grunted, dark.

"Good sum-up. Cullen, what's the plan?"

The Commander oriented them to the trebuchets. Their only chance was to control the battlefield. She nodded and took over.

"Dorian, Sera, gather as many people as you can in the Chantry, put them safe and out of the battle. Bull, I want the Chargers to keep the gates. Solas, gather mages. Stay away from the templars and focus on protection. The others, with me. GO."

They all nodded to their assignations and they split. She rushed outside with Vivienne, Blackwall, Cassandra and Varric. A wave of red templars were already on the Inquisition soldiers. She exchanged a look with Vivienne. Both of them wielded their spiritual blades and fade-walked to reach the trebuchet.

She drew a barrier around the soldiers next to her. Between two spells, Vivienne rolled her eyes at her and drew a barrier around them both. Mahariel seriously considered sticking her tongue out at her but thought better of it. She throws bolts of energy to the templars around Cassandra before her eyes turned to an archer.

"Blackwall, watch out!"

The Warden raised his shield in extremis for the arrow to stick itself into. She disappeared in stealth to stab the archer in the back. The foe turned around with a cry, sending his bow in her face. Fuck, their armor was thick. A lightning – or apparently an "arrow" – immobilized him. She smirked at Dalish near the gates and swept the legs of the man. He fell heavily. She cut his throat in a second.

The trebuchet fired, as a next wave of templars made their way to them. She took her staff, putting quickly ice mines all over their way to buy time to the soldiers loading the trebuchet. Cassandra, Vivienne and Blackwall waited for them to run into the traps.

They didn't see the mines on the snow and rushed right into them. Vivienne fade-walked through a clean line of templars on their rear, chilling them even more. The metal properly weakened, Varric sent an explosive shot, bursting armors into pieces. The two warriors finished the enemies easily. Mahariel smirked, satisfied.

An archer suddenly flanked her. She dodged the arrow with a precise gesture of her staff. She jumped to reach him and swung the top-side of her weapon as a mace. It sent the templar face into the snow. She did not lose a second and killed him with the blade at the other end.

As the trebuchet fired again, she regained little faith into the battle. They were effectively controlling the battlefield. A scout yelled for her attention. She gave a single nod, breaking into a quick jog, the others on her heels.

Her nose wrinkled at the sight of the templars holding the second trebuchet. She stopped the party before the opponents spotted them and exchanged a look with Varric. He immediately nodded, preparing the bolts.

"Ready whenever you are, Grey." Whispered he.

She made a quick countdown with her hand. The hail of flaming bolts swoop on the templars, cries of surprise and pain resounding. The warriors and knight-enchanters broke into a sprint instantly, taking advantage of the panic.

"Herald, go for the trebuchet!"

Mahariel heard Cassandra and hesitated a second before changing her path. Yes, they needed the thing to fire. She began to turn the rusty handle, teeth gritted.  _Calibrating is nice, Commander, but oil would have been appreciated._

"Herald!"

She turned too late, the shield sending her feet away from her task. Blackwall groaned, frustrated to have let the threat known too late. He caught the man with a precise throw of his grabble, pulling him to him. Vivienne drew a barrier around Mahariel. She was now closer than her to the handle. The mages exchanged a look as they switched assignments.

Seeing Blackwall was handling the knight, she focused on the archers, helping Varric. Cassandra was busying herself with some footmen. Mahariel took the throwing knifes on her belt, enflaming them. One. Two. Three. A bolt hissed near her ear and she heard the corpse landing heavily next to her. She gave a nod to Varric, looking quickly at the now-dead rogue. Nasty one, trying to get a close-ranged shot at her.

Her eyes scanned the horizon and she yelled, breath short.

"NOW!"

The trebuchet fired. She barely had time to take a breath. Suddenly a huge row filled the place.  _Oh no_. The sound was not something someone could forget.

"DRAGON! EVERYONE TO THE GATES! NOW!"

She jumped backwards as the said dragon arrived, spilling fire in her direction. She considered the train of corruption of what she thought fire with awe.  _Oh my gods, what is…_  She considered the red glowing of the snow. Her eyes widened in horror but she shook the thoughts. They had to go. Now. She grabbed the bow of the corpse in front of her as she began to run. She had the hunch one more weapon was going to be useful.

She saw Harrit trying to open the door of the forge. She yelled at him to go but he ignored. She did not argue. Instead, she summoned her spiritual blade and burst the crates in his way. He rushed inside and came back a handful of seconds later, now ready to follow.

She was the last one to make it to the gates. She tried the best she could to ignore the Inquisition corpses next to the now destroyed trebuchet in front of the gates. Cullen closed the door behind her and they began to rush to the Chantry.

She heard a cry for help on the way. She spun to look at the cottage in flames. She sped up to reach it.

"NO!"

The dragon reappeared and blow up the wooden building and anyone inside. She felt a hand on her elbow. Cassandra looked at her, shaking her head. Too late. Another shout resounded from the other side. Lysette fell, a red crystal through her heart. But it had not been  _her_  cry. She tried to ignore the dead to focus on the ones she could still save. She yelled with rage, and wielded her spiritual blade, rushing into the group of red templars. She cut a head right away, and casted immolate on immolate.

"Varric, the Tavern, someone's inside!"

"Got it, Grey!"

She saw a red templar advancing towards the dwarf. She sent an energy barrage.

"This way, idiot!"

She felt Vivienne's barrier coming back around them. Thank the Creators, it was full strength and the arrow aiming for her head bounced on it. She immobilized the archer with a winter grasp and Cassandra broke the frozen body with her shield. She plunged her blades into the back of an opponent and kicked the corpse out of her way. Varric came out of the Tavern, helping Flissa walking. Mahariel gave the smallest smile. Finally, they got someone out of this. The dwarf looked up on the side and shouted.

"Grey, up there! Adan and Minaeve!"

She looked at the battle. They had the advantage. She disappeared into stealth and ran to the apothecary. She helped the woman up. Minaeve grunted, head dizzy. Mahariel took the staff from her back to give the elf something to stand. She suddenly saw the explosives next to them and the train of fire expanding. She fade-walked with the woman just fast enough to avoid the deathblow. A shard sank into her shoulder.

"ADAN!"

But it was too late for him. Again. She felt the tears of rage running down her cheeks. This bastard was going to pay for this. She looked back at her party. The path was clean to the Chantry.

As she helped Minaeve and Varric helped Flissa, they spotted Threnn engaged in a fight. She saw the arrow. She burnt it before it reached her. Cassandra, Blackwall and Vivienne rushed to help the requisition agent. Minaeve shoved her slightly, resting against the staff. She slid her hand under Flissa's arms, giving a fragile nod towards the battle. Mahariel and Varric exchanged a look. They stayed nearby, but she took the bow she had salvaged earlier as he loaded Bianca. They aimed for the path the templars were coming from. Mahariel grunted as she felt how low her mana pool was. No mines, nor flaming arrows then.

They all stepped into the Chantry. She pulled off fiercely a shard still deep in her skin and turned to face Cole and Roderick. The man was in bad shape. Even without Cole's words, she would have guessed he was not going to make it. She closed her eyes. They needed a plan. Now. Cullen, Solas, Dorian and Sera on his heels, came to her. Bull was with the Chargers. She looked towards him quickly, relieved to count as many of his men as before. Her gaze met Solas' quickly. Cullen finally got her attention. No kidding the situation was not good. Fuck, she did not need a report to know that!

"…They'll kill everyone in Haven!"

"The Elder One doesn't care about the village. He only wants the Herald." Mahariel looked at Cole with hope.

"Will he let them go if I surrender?"

She ignored every eye on her, whether they were disapproving or respectful, only interested by Cole's answer. Which was not what she wanted to hear. The discussion turned awfully fatalistic. Not that she could blame the Commander. It certainly looked like the end. Until Cole spoke again. Apparently on behalf of Roderick. The Chancellor took over. There was a path. A way out of Haven. Unknown to most. People could flee through it. Mahariel nodded.

"Then you go. I will stall them."

"What of your escape?" asked Cullen. She remained silent, face unreadable. The features of the man softened as he realized  _she_  did not mean to survive this. He was to add something but got interrupted.

"You are not going back there alone, Herald." Declared Cassandra.

"Agreed." Nodded Solas.

"I'm in too." Concluded Varric. She scowled.

"Absolutely not." Varric snorted without mirth.

"We don't have time to argue and you cannot prevent us from following you, Grey. You are not going out there alone."

She scowled deeper and seriously considered knocking the three of them out. She turned with hope her eyes towards Dorian, Sera and Vivienne. They had to reason them. Dorian frowned.

"Don't look at me. If they don't, I will."

"Hell yeah." Confirmed Sera. Vivienne rolled her eyes.

"This is a lost cause, my dear. Surely you can see that."

Cassandra let out a disgusted noise at Vivienne's words, and Sera stuck her tongue out at the Grand Enchantress. Mahariel looked from one to another to the door to the Chancellor. Fenedhis, there was no time for this! She suppressed a swallow. She needed to focus on her anger not anything else. She glanced quickly towards Solas. They all had to get out of here.  _He_ had to get out of here. But there was no time to reason them. She cried out in frustration.

"If you come, I need your word that you will do as I say. If I tell you  _run_ , you do. Understood?" She paused and when the answers did not come, she repeated, louder, unquestionable. "Understood?"

The three of them reluctantly nodded. This time, she allowed her eyes to linger as they met Solas'. She had no idea if they intended to proceed but as Varric said, there was no time for more words. She could only hope that they will.  _I'll make sure they do,_ thought she with forced confidence into the words.

Roderick and Cole – Mythal only knew how the boy knew the piece of information too – indicated quickly to the party how to reach the path if a chance to escape appeared. Thankfully, Cassandra knew the building well enough to mentally locate it and she affirmed she knew how to proceed. Cullen spoke a last sentence that she believed wanted itself encouraging. She was going to take off when Roderick stopped her.

"Herald…If you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this, I pray for you." She nodded sternly and stretched her hand to the Chancellor.

"Save them, Chancellor." Despite the pain, his features softened a bit. After a sec of hesitation, he shook her hand.

"Likewise, Herald."

 

* * *

 

 

She took a step back unwillingly. Blood was dripping from her blades and armor. She froze at the appearance of the monster. Once, it had been a man.

"What the hell is that…" Asked she to no one in particular under her breath.

"A Behemoth." Came Solas' short reply.

The four of them were standing close to each other, Mahariel trying to find the time to turn the trebuchet's handle. She swallowed as the monster approach. It was a shapeless heap of Red Lyrium. His limbs were more maces than hands. Her grip on her daggers tightened as she took a step forward. Nothing was going to prevent her from aiming this trebuchet. Cassandra charged immediately and Varric cocked his crossbow, beginning to fire fiercely. Solas wrapped the all of them in yet another barrier. Before she could charge, he held his hand in front of her.

"Wind the trebuchet. We can take care of this."

"What?! No! It is going to crush someone!" He looked deep into her eyes.

"I will take this chance as long as I'm sure it won't be you." Said he softly, almost a whisper. Her lips parted slightly with bewilderment as her heart raced even more than it already did. "Mahariel, wind the trebuchet."

He put a hand on her shoulder as he commanded, before turning towards the behemoth. He struck it with a fierce veilstrike and went on with an energy barrage. Mahariel looked few seconds before turning effectively towards the trebuchet. She kept an eye on the fight, ready to intervene at the first sign of danger for the party.

She spun and trapped the arm of the behemoth into ice before it smashed Cassandra. Its limb weighted up, the behemoth lost its balance few seconds. Cassandra jumped on her feet. Solas looked at Mahariel, clearly saying  _don't you dare charge_. She gave him an exhausted smile, an idea jumping in her head. She tossed him a little blue bottle. A lyrium potion. He took it gratefully.

"You have something in mind, don't you?" Asked he, giving her a smile of his own.

"A show on ice, so to speak."

She smirked. He raised a brow before understanding where she was going. Yes, they needed their mana pool full for this…But with the both of them, they could finish this thing. Seeing understanding in his gaze, she muttered a countdown.

They rushed as one in fade-walk through the behemoth. They emerged at its rear. Solas raised his staff and Mahariel her hands as they assaulted the monster with a double winter-grasp. The glowing beast froze. Sweats was dripping from their forehead under the effort of the spell, way more powerful than usual, considering the size of the behemoth.

"Not to be rude, but could you stop starring and attack?" Shouted Mahariel with a husky voice.

The bolts were swiftly enough joined by the sword. The behemoth eventually exploded in shards of ice and red lyrium. They barely let out a sigh that Mahariel was already rushing to finish aiming the trebuchet.

"Take a head-start to the Chantry. No need to have the four of us running away from the avalanche."

They merely rolled their eyes, watching her back, weapons drawn. She groaned but didn't add anything. The Commander would fire the signal and they would be out within minutes. With the lyrium they just took, Solas and her could even drag the others in a fade-walk to reach the building if needed.

She took a satisfied look at the trebuchet. The aim seemed about right. She exchanged a look with Cassandra who nodded. Good, just had to wait for –

"Watch out!"

They jumped on the side as the dragon skimmed the ground, a trail of corruption behind her. It brought down what was left of Haven's outer wooden wall. With the barricades and the buildings burning, they could even see the Chantry from where they were. A path of debris, red lyrium shards and burning beams led now right there.

Mahariel jumped on her feet, stretching a hand to Varric as Cassandra helped Solas up. The dragon was circling, obviously ready to come back but waiting for something. A horrible hunch in her guts, Mahariel pressed the other on the path cleared by the beast.

"Run! Now!"

She began to run as well, grabbing Varric's elbow. She, however, loosened her grip and slowed down as soon as they all broke into a sprint of their own.  _They have to get out of here. This elder one wants me. He won't go after them if I'm standing right here._  Solas felt the distance growing and stopped abruptly, turning towards her.

"Mahariel, come!"

"I said  _run_ , Solas."

Storm eyes met lagoon ones once more for what seemed an endless moment. It was barely a second. She gave him a confident smile. One of their smile which was promising everything was going to be okay. He held his breath but let the Seeker dragged him further towards the Chantry. Mahariel kept her eyes into Solas', unwavering, unaware of the dark respectful gaze of the Seeker and of the rueful one of Varric.


	16. In your heart shall burn - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let's go on with this quest...Additional translations in the end notes.

 

* * *

She looked at him with this confident smile. It convinced him that everything was going to be okay. He realized only too late that  _everything_  was not meant to include her.

Solas, Cassandra and Varric reached the Chantry.

They turned around and they saw her. Still next to the trebuchet. Facing Corypheus and his dragon. Solas' eyes widened with horror and his back straightened. Petrified. Frozen.

Corypheus lifted her, her thin neck trapped between his corrupted claws. He sent her against the trebuchet. She bumped into the wood, the sickening crack of a rib breaking resounded. She stood up on the machine. She faced the monster -s- an insolent smirk of defiance on her face. The cue of the commander crossed the sky.

She beamed with both relief and sadness. This was the smile of someone ready to die. She was ready to die, knowing that the others will live. Instinctively, Cassandra grabbed Solas, putting quickly a hand on his mouth to mutter his screams. He had seen the smile too. Mahariel looked towards them. She maintained her smile. They read on her lips her command.  _Go_. Her head spun back towards Corypheus.

"So, you speak too much and you have a hell of an overinflated ego. Good to know." She winked and smirked as she finally triggered the avalanche. Corypheus and his dragon fled.

Last thing they saw before the doors closed was Mahariel jumping in a hole. Cassandra was still holding Solas as she closed the door with Varric. The elf was struggling with all his strength.

"Chuckles, we have to go!"

"NO!" his voice was broken. Varric looked at Cassandra with concern. They wouldn't be able to keep him in check. How long before he used magic on them? Varric's eyes laid on Bianca. It would do. He knocked him out with the crossbow. The Seeker contained her surprise – there was no time for it – and put the apostate on her shoulder. They ran through the path Chancellor Roderick showed them.

* * *

She groaned with pain on the wet ground of the cave. She felt the broken rib right away.  _One needs to be alive to have a broken bone, right?_ She snorted on the inside.  _I should start gambling._ She pushed herself towards a sitting position, only trying now to open her eyes.

She barely saw white and dark stains at first. She jumped as a drop of melted ice reached the ground. The movement only added to the stark pain on her side and the dizziness of her head. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out something. Anything.

"Well…I can say it's a cave? Good start." Declared she out loud to herself.

She sighed with exhaustion. Honestly, she didn't intend to get out of it alive. She was simply too proud to let this bastard got the satisfaction of ending her himself. And now…Now what? She was in some old underground networks? Freakin' place which, for all she knew, had as much chance to lead her to the Deep Roads than outside. She closed her eyes.  _Tell me they made it out alive. If I am to die here of cold, Creators send me a spirit to tell me they are alive._

As expected, nothing came. She shivered heavily. Her armor was soaked with blood and ice, as the rest of her. It was torn on several spots.

_You need to get up. Even if they did make it out alive, this Elder One is out there! You know what he wants to do! Dammit, you saw it! You cannot let that happen!_

"It's okay, child. You did your part."

She let out a yell, crawling backwards and looking frantically around. The movements did nothing to improve her state and she more or less fell back on her elbows. There was no one. Just this hollow voice in her ear.

"You cannot help them. You made it worse. It's alright, you can stop trying. You  _have_ to stop trying."

_I have to –_ She shook her head, ignoring how much it made it spun. She growled.

"I'm not in the mood, demon."

"Of course, you are not. You are exhausted. You've been for years. Doing everything for anyone but yourself. And where did that get you? At the best, your People fear you. Most of them despise you. An harellan. A traitor. Someone who has been banished. All these years, and what did you accomplish? You brought death. Nothing else."

She suppressed the need to swallow and didn't acknowledge her eyes tearing up. She could not take it. Not now. Not after what just happened. She just wanted to forget this nightmare. She just wanted to sleep. To wake up anywhere but here. In her cottage in Haven. In her cot in the Qunari camp. In her silk sheets in Tevinter. In her room in Orlais. In her aravel in the Free Marches. Yes. There. Before. Before everything.

"Ma isalas hamin, da'len."  _You need rest, child._ Breathed the demon.

She felt her eyes closing as a light warm breeze covered her. She took a deep breath as her mind began to ease. She leaned back on the ground, not feeling the wetness of the ice anymore. The voice distorted itself, becoming familiar, welcoming, humming a Dalish tune.

…

…

_Vhenan…?! Vhenan, wake up!_

* * *

While he was knocked out, he tried to search the Fade. His trouble was too deep for the Fade to be stable, despair and fear demons lingering in the shadows. He thought he felt her presence at some point and yelled frantically for her to wake up. If he felt her presence there…Her spirit could be travelling through the Veil! She could be dead! She likely was! The thoughts rushing broke any kind of thin focus he had and threw him out of the Fade.

He woke up as they were mid-way to the Inquisition camp. Cassandra released him instantly. He fell on his knees, looking to the remains of Haven.  _No…NO! She cannot…_

"We have to look for her!" he nothing but sobbed. Varric put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"We will, Chuckles, but for that, we need Leliana's scouts…Or what remains of them."

The snow was endless. Looking now was a suicide mission. The cold will reclaim them before they find her –  _if_  she was still to be found. And the Inquisition would not wait for them indefinitely. A deep wrath took suddenly place on Solas' face. He stood up, menacingly, and turned back to Varric.

" _YOU_. I could have saved her but you knocked me out."

"No, you couldn't." replied the dwarf softly.

"I could have cushioned the fall." Hissed he.

"She is a mage. If magic could avoid the worst, no doubt she used it."

"Enough!" Cassandra's voice resounded. "I am with Varric on this one, Solas. Going after her would have been stupid and you know it! Now, pull it together and move!"

The command was not as effective as expected. He couldn't be reasoned with at this moment. With an exhausted noise, she took the sharp of her sword in her hand and knocked him out again with the pommel. An elven whisper crossed his lips. Cassandra and Varric sighed sadly and shook their head.

"Well…Shit. Think she made it Seeker?" Cassandra put Solas back on her shoulder.

"I truly hope."

Varric looked back to Haven. He tried to convince himself.  _She is alive_. He added, hardly confident in his feigned lightness.

"Better remember his elfy words, sure we can tease him with it once she is safe."

* * *

She fell. She activated the trebuchet, ran from Corypheus and fell. And his heart broke. Why did the Seeker prevent him from moving?! She dragged him inside the chantry and then to the camp. He wanted to jump after her. He  _had_ to jump after her. He struggled with all his strengths against Cassandra's hold. How could she let her die like this?!

It kept playing in a loop in his mind. He couldn't,  _wouldn't_  allow this.

He managed to calm himself slightly once he was back in the Fade.  _You should not lose your strength like this. She may be alive, and if she is, she needs help._ He focused his magic, wrapping himself with an old spell. He needed to call upon his long-time allies. If he could not help her now, they could. The spectral wolves gathered around him, hearing his demand. They will look for her and guide her the best they could.

At the first occasion, he slipped away from Cassandra's watch. He could hear the distressed howl of the wolves. Either they couldn't find her, or she needed more than a guide. He sought the magic of the mark. He should be able to locate it. To locate  _his_ magic.  _Fenedhis why am I so weak?!_

His eyes widened when he spotted the frozen body. He didn't even know if it was Mahariel or if a despair demon was playing with him.  _So weak_. His exhaustion, his wounds, he was not even sure he could tell the difference. The words of caution were in his mind but far, a whisper. He could not focus on them. Or his body couldn't listen, at least. Despite the remains of good sense telling him it was a cruel joke, he quickened his pace. He felt the magical aura as he came closer. He sensed suddenly the mark. It  _was_ her! There was no mistake possible here! His exhaustion and his wounds out of his mind, he ran towards the fragile body.

He reached her in a last desperate step. His vision was a blur. A blur of tears he was holding back.  _Holding back._  Damn if it could be true. Who was he kidding. He was unable to choke back tears. His cheeks were wet in the cold. Almost instantly freezing against his skin. He didn't care.

He took off his coat and covered her. He couldn't care less about his own well-being. Her skin was even paler than usual. Almost grey. Her lips were frozen blue. He warmed her the best he could. His hands were shacking but he knew the cold had nothing to do with it. He looked for her pulse. A far whisper, nothing more. But she was alive. He had no time to lose.

He wrapped her in the coat and lifted her carefully, huddling her against his chest. He casted a spell to warm the elf, less successfully than he wanted.  _So weak_. He carried her, walking faster than ever. He didn't notice the bite of the cold on his skin, on his bare feet. It didn't matter.  _He_  didn't matter at this very moment. There was only her.

Everyone ran towards him at the unexpected sight he offered. His voice broke once more when he called for healers.

He stayed at her side for days, taking no sleep. He didn't leave the tent until it was clear her life was not at stake. The injuries were numerous. Broken rib, ankle. No wonder she didn't make it to the camp on her own. She was strong-willed, but without healing potions, walking had been almost impossible.

Once the healers assured him she would live, he left the chair next to her. With this assurance, his mind partially at ease, sense struck him. He  _couldn't_  be here when she awoke. The adrenalin was gone and he felt ashamed. Of course, shame for what he let happen but he had already been through this. Shame because he lost his composure. In front of her – not that there was the slightest chance she remembered – in front of everyone. The elven words he said in his despair…He gritted his teeth. No one understood it, but that was not the dangerous part. The dangerous part was the truth in them. And he knew against all good sense, against all odds, it was true. He knew. He knew he had to keep his distances. This was inappropriate, ill-considered…And a threat.

Unintentionally, he pictured her face, her smile and her giggle popped in his ears. He couldn't help but grinned genuinely. She was-  _NO_. He shook energetically his head to chase the thought.  _You CANNOT let THAT happen._

* * *

He avoided her as long as he could. Eventually, the others came to relate her the events once she awaked. She couldn't leave her bed yet. She asked for him several times. And he just bailed on each time someone came to tell him to go see her. Eventually, Varric decided to act. He came to find him on his spot – far from the rest of the camp.

Solas was standing, his chin high, arms in his back, staring at the horizon next to his veilfire.

"Hey Chuckles"

"Evening, master Tethras" He replied without moving, still turning his back to the dwarf. "To what do I owe the unexpected visit?" Varric sighed. As formal as always. He wasn't going to make it easy.

"She asked for you. Again. Could you play nice and pay her a visit?"

"Does she have any wounds which require my particular expertise?" On this line Varric burst.

"Seriously, Chuckles?!  _Does she have_  – What the hell?! C'mon, I know what a heartbreak sounds like, and I know what I heard in your voice  _that_ day! If it wasn't for the seeker's grasp you would have followed her in her fall without a blink! Damn you would have followed her in  _death_  without a blink! You risked your life to find her, to take her back here, and  _now_ you don't even want to see her?!"

A sad smile took place on Solas' face. He sighed in a low voice, more to himself than to the dwarf.

"Precisely." Varric shook his head, enable to see the elf's expression. He knew he should have asked the Iron Bull to drag him to her tent.

"We didn't tell her  _everything_  by the way, if it is your concern. But you cannot avoid her forever. Call off the childish shame, pull it together and go see her."

He took off, knowing he wouldn't get anything more from the mage.

If only it was what it was. Childish shame. But it wasn't. The second he will lay his eyes on her, his willpower will crumble. Everything will be lost. However, Varric did have a point. He couldn't avoid her forever. And he couldn't leave yet. Oh, he gave it a lot of thoughts. It would have been so easier if he could…But this was  _his_ mistake to fix. And he needed  _her_  to do so.

* * *

The next night, he was still up despite the late hour. He sat by the fire, looking thoughtfully at the horizon. He was still looking for a way to solve the issue Varric pointed out. Some light steps made him leave his contemplation. The slow pace in the snow, slightly stumbling…He turned quickly around, his heartbeat quicker and louder than he wanted it to. Despite the hood and the large cloak, he had no doubt on the identity. He contained his urge to jump on his feet to move towards her.

Until he noticed her limping. Then, he was next to her in no time. He put gently her arm around his shoulders.

"Let me help you, lethallan."

His free hand reached a blanket nearby and spread it on the ground. He made her sit carefully. Her eyes were thankful as she peeked at him. He suppressed a laugh when she mumbled.

"Ma serannas, but I can take care of myself."

Some could have felt hurt but he knew better. As proud as always. As proud as  _him_. He sat too, trying to put as distance between them as possible without it being obvious. She frowned slightly, being too observant not to notice. Still, she did not comment. He pointed out nonchalantly and slightly patronizing.

"I'm impressed you successfully sneaked out from their watch." She ignored the disapproval tone.

"Wasn't that hard." She replied with a light self-satisfied smirk. He shook his head without looking at her.

"I will take you back there as soon as you find your breath back."

His voice was cold as ice. A sparkle of hurt and sadness appeared in the eyes he was avoiding. Fenedhis, what the hell happened after Haven?! Everyone stayed very blurry when telling her how she ended up here. Always skipping the subject one way or another. She remembered Corypheus, the avalanche…A cave? Everything was blurry. And more than not coming by himself, he even refused to come when she asked for him. She needed to understand what happened, what she had done – and didn't recall – which was that bad! Dammit, he wouldn't even  _look_  at her! She swallowed her pride.

"Ir abelas, lethallin." She whispered, her eyes looking down. Solas couldn't take it anymore. His face spun towards her, surprised.

"What for, lethallan?" She growled, irritated against herself.

"I don't know – remember. What I do know is that I obviously did something which offended you…So, I'm sorry."

His eyes were finally meeting hers. For once, her face was not covered with war-paint, letting seeable the light grey ghilan'nain vallaslin. He knew her well enough to know that it was not easy thing to say for her. Actually, he did not recall her apologizing even once in the last three months. Or lightly but never seriously. If serious, implicitly, but never did she say the words.  _I put her in such discomfort_ …He chastised himself. This was her very last resort. Apologies. For something she didn't even do. His head tilted a bit and a sad smile appeared on his lips. He shook slowly his head.

"You didn't do anything wrong, lethallan." She glanced at her friend with a raised eyebrow and crossed her arms.

" _Really_? So why are you avoiding me?"

"You need to rest. My presence wouldn't do any good." He answered, looking away with a stern face. She felt even more confused. His switches of attitude weren't making any sense! He soon added.

"I knew you were alright. There was no need to disturb your recovery." She raised another skeptical eyebrow.

"And when I asked for you?"

He remained silent. He didn't have any answer to that. Clearly, the excuses he gave to the others, she heard them already and she didn't buy them. She sighed, hiding – poorly – her disappointment. She wasn't feeling like fighting with him. She did not want to fight with him. When he looked at her, she hoped it was it, that everything was back to normal between them…She was obviously wrong. Well  _normal_  between them wasn't something clearly established but sure as hell it was not  _that_.

"Well then" she said a bit bitterly while getting back on her feet "Ma nuvenin, lethallin. And anyway, thank you for saving me. Again. I'll pay you back for this."

"Tel'Isala" Whispered he, without thinking she would actually hear.

"Really?! It does not sound like it!"

She replied louder, sharper and more aggressively than she intended. She spun back to him with the sentence, forgetting her wounds. She staggered, putting all her efforts in  _not_ falling. It didn't work that good. Back on his feet, he didn't manage to prevent the fall but caught her before she hit the frozen ground.

"Crap" grunted she while struggling against his embrace. He was on one knee – knight style. "Ar tel'isala mar halani!"

_Fenedhis so much for the dramatic dignified exit._ His arms were stronger than she thought – or she was weaker than usual? Likely both. She couldn't free herself from his hold. Eventually, she stopped fighting a lost battle, defeated – definitely a bad night for her pride. She looked up to his storm blue eyes.

He stared at her a bit longer. Her bright eyes, the little scar under her left one, her anger-reddened cheeks, her full lips…He pulled himself together – kind of.

"Are you done?" Asked he.

She reluctantly nodded, mad at herself for her current weakness. At her surprise, he didn't let go of her. He stood up, carrying her…But not to the camp. To the blanket. He sat on it, his arms remaining around her. He caught another cover and wrapped it around them.

She remained silent, too astonished to find her voice. When he caught her, she had felt his heartbeat quick, afraid at first. Afraid because she stumbled?  _Creators, if a little stumble concerned him that much what of…Oh crap._ Is that what it was? She didn't consider it but why was it Solas who found her…From what she heard, by himself. She suddenly felt a wave of guilt. What did she put him through exactly back in Haven? He was afraid, afraid for her and…She yelled at him, dammit! Why was she so pissed anyway? She shouldn't have been…She wouldn't have been if it had been someone else – The slight change on his heartbeat interrupted her thoughts – a welcome distraction, she didn't like where they were going once more…She focused on the pace. Not afraid anymore but still weirdly quick and loud. And finally, warm and at ease once they were sitting on the blanket.

When he kept her in his embrace, he found himself unable to regret what was a clear mistake. He didn't have the strength to stop it anyway. He wanted –  _needed_ – to feel her, to hold her, to protect her. The words of the healers weren't enough, he could see it now. The fear of losing her didn't have left him until this very moment. He found peace and relief with her in his arms.

She focused on his warmth, trying to keep her mind away from any unwelcome train of thought. She had been so afraid for all of them. For him. She needed to know he was alive as much as he did. Not that she would ever acknowledge it was why she had been through so much troubles to find him tonight. Everything was hurting, but she had not seen him since…Her breathe eased and she cuddled unconsciously more against his chest.

He saw her eyelids becoming heavier until she eventually closed her eyes. He kissed affectionately the top of her head as she fell asleep so easily in his arms. It seemed so right.

He sighed after a time. Reluctantly, he decided that it was time to break the moment. He carried her back to her cot. He tried to stay in the shadows.  _This time_ , he thought,  _it could actually be childish shame_. He smiled slightly, looking down to sleepy Mahariel, nestled against his chest. He just couldn't face Varric's smirk if he encountered him.

Matter of fact, she was close to sleep, but some bits of consciousness remained. She couldn't let him know that, though. If she was awake, conscious, it meant she agreed to this bridal style walk. She wasn't ready to admit to herself that she was enjoying it…That she wanted these moments. With him. She wasn't going to confess to herself, him or anyone how she felt right this moment; how she enjoyed her weakness instead of cursing it, how she wanted to tell him not to let her go when he put her to bed. She felt his touch when he stroked a strand behind her ear. Her skin tingled where his fingers touched her. He lightly pressed his lips against her forehead.

"Hamin, vhenan" Whispered he before leaving her side.

Her heart jumped at his last word. His warmth had already left her and the rustle of the tent confirmed her loneliness.  _Ma serannas Dirthamen_ , she thought, thanking the god of secrets for preventing her skin from blushing when he was still here.

It took her an endless time to find her sleep that night. The more she struggled to drive her thoughts away from the apostate, the more she failed. Despite her exhaustion, she couldn't let herself fall asleep thinking about him. They were both mages, these thoughts could lead her to him in the Fade. And encountering him in the Fade would be…Awkward at the very least. More than that, it would be a confession she wasn't ready to give. A confession the smile which kept coming back to her lips was giving to the darkness alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tel'isala – no need  
> Ar tel'isala mar halani – I don't need your help  
> Hamin vhenan – Rest, my heart
> 
>  
> 
> My apologies if I got OOC for Solas here, it was for the good of drama and fluff. I hope it made it worth it.


	17. The dawn will come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma serannas for reading! Additional translations in the end notes

 

* * *

"Hey Chuckles"

Varric reached Solas' spot, two mugs in his hands. And a smirk on his face. First skeptical face to the  _too_ friendly good morning, the elf understood immediately the typical smile.  _Great_. He groaned on the inside while taking the cup. Distracted, he instinctively smelled the tea. Reflex which led to a disgusted grunt.

"You are a damn riddle" commented Varric, still confused by his logic about the stuff. "I guessed you needed the tonic. You stayed up quite late." Solas didn't need to look at him to know he just winked.  _And here it goes…_

"I have to admit myself impressed by your stealth, Son of the Stone. I did not notice your presence while I was still awake." His tone was detached and nonchalant. It wasn't enough to stop Varric.

"Not that it took a lot, you seemed quite distracted." The elf remained unshakeable.

"I should have known better. The Herald is not the kind to take no for an answer." He paused. The inquisitive look of the dwarf made him reluctantly resumed. "She came by to offer me her thanks. I told her none were needed. She is a stubborn woman as you may know."

_SHE is stubborn?_   _This is both the understatement and the joke of the year from him._ For once, the dwarf kept his thought to himself and settled for a simple…

"Yes. And…?"

"And she fell asleep. This is all this story has to offer, Son of the Stone."

_Wow two son of the Stone in a row, damn, he really doesn't want to talk about it_. His sentence sounded like an untold threat. Varric sighed.

"Fair enough, Chuckles. I hope your grimness didn't rub off on Grey yet, or this is going to grow tiresome quickly." Mumbled he.

* * *

For almost the entire day, the herald slept. The voices of Cullen, Leliana, Josephine and Cassandra woke her up in the early evening. They were arguing outside. Again.

"These are dark times for all of us" The voice of Mother Giselle startled her. She turned her head. She was sitting next to her cot.

"Gods, Mother Giselle, I did not see you there."

Her hand instinctively reached to her chin. Not like war-paint could have magically appeared. Hers had been buried with Haven and Bull did not wear any. And now, even people who did not already know were coming here. Crap. She did consider using blood but the times when she was alone were few. She managed once but it was removed the next time she woke up and she got scolded like never by the healers. Well, yes, 'twas not very wise to cut her arm and bleed voluntarily considering her current state, but she had to do  _something_.

"Sorry for scarring you." The mother paused before adding "You have no need to hide them here, child." The Herald dismissed the apologies with a waving hand and sighed, looking at the argument.

"Need or not, I can't and I will have to do with that. I thought they would have stopped by now. Or at least bring it up here."

"It has almost been a week. People are scared, exhausted. Adding your voice would do no good here."

"Yes?" She asked with a mischievous smile. "And what do you think of a snowball? We should use the only supply we really have after all!"

Giselle let a little laugh out. This was the way the herald had won the people's heart. This was this very smile which put hope in them. Her way of joking and smiling with confidence and lightness, even in the darkness. It was an untold promise that everything was going to be alright. She had a way to make her unbreakable mask feel genuine and innate. Maybe it was.

This façade was the one of a true leader. One who knows better, who has more reasons to be concerned than any other, but who is able to hide it because she cannot let the people see that  _she_ is scared. This was who was the Herald to the Mother, a beacon of hope. A very unexpected one, looking sometimes like a Qunari, like a Tevinter, sounding like that or like a Fereldan, a Dalish or a bard. Maybe it was why. She was the Herald of everyone. At any rate, she was someone who would take responsibilities she was not meant to assume and never complain. Someone who will do what needed to be done, from a decision no one else was willing to assume, to a simple smile to ease the fear of a poor man. This confident smile could win anyone in a blink.

Giselle considered her a time before asking.

"Why do you hide them? I don't know a lot about your People but I thought these were a symbol of pride." Mahariel raised a brow.

"Are you so eager to see your  _Herald_  running around with some pagan symbols on her face?"

"Fair enough. Your secrets are yours, Herald."

Mahariel remained thoughtful, looking outside. The tent was wide-opened. She put a foot on the ground and stood up, walking slowly towards a post. She sighed on the inside. Her secrets did not seem important anymore. She felt like she was dodging the questions by habit more than something else. She was tired. Tired of secrets, tired of failing at protecting people. She should have seen this coming. In Redcliffe, she had heard of the Elder One attacking the Inquisition. What a fool she had been to think she had prevented this future. But no, she had been focused on what was next for her. She was focused on protecting her former clan and she had forgotten about the people in front of her. She had sent her agents away. She finally spoke low.

"I failed you all."

When she said it, a heavy silence fell on the camp. Cullen, Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine had stopped bickering and were looking down. Out of words and plans. She shook her head and suppressed a bitter laugh.  _A silence of death…Deaths I failed to prevent._ Mother Giselle looked at them and knew what to do. There was hope. Even if their leaders couldn't see it anymore. And if  _they_ had forgotten, the people could remind them.

"Shadows fall, and hope has fled.  
Steel your heart, the dawn will come.

The night is long, and the path is dark  
Look to the sky, for one day soon  
The dawn will come."

All of a sudden, few voices including the melodious high-pitched of the spymaster joined hers.

"The shepherd's lost, and his home is far  
Keep to the stars, the dawn will come.  
The night is long…"

More and more people were joining the song, under the dazzled eyes of the Herald. She swallowed a bit.  _Fenhedis, why are they looking at…Oh crap._ The commander's voice surprised her the most.

"…And the path is dark  
Look to the sky, for one day soon  
The dawn will come."

All of Haven's survivors were now singing…and began to kneel, one by one. In front of her.  _NO. NO NO NO Dammit NO - LOOK TO THE SKY, you just said it! Do it, not me, the sky! NOW!...Please…_ Her thoughts were rushing, at the end almost begging for them to turn to someone else, anyone else. She felt her limbs shiver. Her vision wasn't clear as she tried to keep her tears for herself. Tears as confused as her feelings. Honor, Pride, Fear… _Too much, just too much._  She felt the weight of the world on her shoulders and leaned more against the post. She wanted to disappear into it. She just failed them, they couldn't seriously trust her now! She had been the doom of Haven, she would be the doom of them as well!

Solas was watching the scene from behind a tent. He could feel her growing discomfort in her eyes. Discomfort which quickly became fear…And which would just as quickly jump to a panic attack. A glance towards the swift pace of her chest made him move. He got around the crowd through the shadows once more. He entered the tent discreetly from the other side and soon he was, hidden smartly in the darkness, next to her. She jumped when he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. He leaned to her ear.

"breath lethallan." He struggled a bit to lock her gaze. He took one of her hand into his, trying to remain as hidden in the tent as possible. Hopefully, the crowd was too mesmerized to notice the current state of their herald.

"Bare your blade, and raise it high  
Stand your ground, the dawn will come

The night is long, and the path is dark  
Look to the sky, for one day soon"

Solas squeezed her hand gently to keep her attention on him. He muttered  _in, out_  as he was tranquilizing her breathes.

"The dawn will come."

Mother Giselle turned back to her. Thanks to Solas' intervention, her expression could be acknowledged as deeply touched.

"You can rely on us as much as we rely on you, child. They will follow you. You didn't fail them and they won't fail you."

Grateful for her that the mother didn't expect any answer, Solas reached discreetly the spot of the post where the fabric was stuck in order to keep the tent open. He let it fall between the Herald and the rest of the camp so they were now out of sight. As soon as it was done, she crumbled heavily on the ground, taking him off-guard. Her breathes were quick and loud and she was shacking horribly. A deep concern on his face, he kneeled in front of her.

"Lethallan? Lethallan, talk to me."

The only things she could see was Haven, Corypheus, his Dragon.  _Red. Red everywhere._  The sound of her blood in her temples. Screams. Cries. Corpses everywhere. The Temple of Sacred Ashes. Burnt Corpses crying in their last stand. The Future.  _Red everywhere_. Cassandra. Varric.  _Solas._  Glowing red lyrium under their skin. Leliana.  _Analen. Shadow sinking into her flesh. Her cry of pain._ She couldn't stop it. They wanted  _her_ to stop that. People died instead of her. He wanted  _her_. He was never going to stop.

Varric popped up through the part of the tent which was still open.

"This was quite the show –" He interrupted himself, seeing the scene. He rushed towards the Herald. "Grey? Chuckles what is happening to her?"

"Panic attack." Solas managed. "I thought I had it under control but obviously I was wrong." He kept his voice more or less even. The dwarf, just as concerned, decided to begin by closing the other slide.

"You tried your magic?"

"Yes, she is fighting it."

"Well…Shit." Solas burst.

"Tell me this was not the big contribution of yours, dwarf!"

Death. So many corpses. Flashes of Redcliffe.  _Red everywhere, Breach upon Thedas, Leliana, Cassandra, Varric, Solas, Analen…Doomed. Dead._ She didn't see the reality around her anymore. She was spiraling, not seeing the difference between the truth and the fears on her mind.  _They are dead. As everyone you once dared to call friends. Fellsathan, Venicio, Salit…There will be no difference here. SHUT UP._ She tried to shout to the endless voice laughing cruelly.  _You know this is the truth. You are nothing but a stupid child. Did you think you stood a chance?_

"Bad. It wants to feed. It awaits next to her. She will be weak again. I'm hungry."

Varric and Solas turned quickly towards the boy. He appeared at the beginning of the attack on Haven. Solas could feel his nature. He was no mortal boy. He was a spirit. Compassion if he had to guess. He scowled with even deeper concern to the words of the boy.

"Who, Cole?"

"Next to her. Hungry. He wants her to be afraid. He loves when she is afraid. Delicious. Powerful. Always glowing."

"Fear demon. Can you see him, Cole? Can you chase him?"

"No. I wish to help but she won't let me. Not anymore. Weak. Unworthy. Everyone died and it is all my fault. A death sentence. I should have died. I was the one who had to die. But I'm not. And they are. Selfish. Powerless. Helpless. Let me die."

"Chuckles, can you explain?"

"Not now, Varric, we need to reach her first." His voice shook. He tried to clear his mind. He needed to think clearly in order to free her.

"Breath, Chuckles." Varric said with a comforting hand. The last thing they needed was a second panicking elf. "You said you had it under control, what changed?"

"She thinks everyone died. Show her you are not." Resumed Cole.

Yes, it might be that simple! She lost it when he broke eye and physical contact! Solas reached her hands and tilted his head. He needed to lock her eyes into his.

"Lethallan, look at me. I'm alive. None of this is real."

Death, corpses, red… _Lethallan_. Solas' voice was nothing more than a whisper. No, it was a trick! He was dead. Because she failed. Because she dared care for him. Suddenly she saw the storm blue eyes. No…Red. But he was…The demon's voice lowered a bit.

"Lethallan, listen to me. None of this is real. This is a demon. Don't let him reach you. You are not weak. You didn't fail. You saved more people than I can count. You are not a death sentence. You are hope. Ma ane ara las."

"Yes…Yes you are helping! She needs your voice. She needs your eyes. No red. Alive."

Solas resumed his words. His voice comforting and smooth. Slowly, the demon stepped back. He mostly talked to her in an elvhen she couldn't understand. But it didn't matter. The words didn't matter. At some point, seeing that she was feeling better, Varric looked at the boy. It was better for them to take their leave. Solas had it under control.

He didn't notice that their audience was gone. All he saw was her. He finally drove her to his chest. His heartbeat finished the work of his voice. He was alive. She took some deep breathes. It took her some more minutes to find her voice.

"I…I'm sorry Solas. It never happened before…I thought I was a better mage than that, being fool by a demon..." She chastised herself.

"Tel'abelas, lethallan." He replied in a low voice, gently pulling her away to look her in the eyes. "Do not blame yourself, this is the mark's doing. It drives the spirits attention towards you in a far stronger way than towards any usual mage."

"Still, it is no excuse." He scowled slightly.

"It is precisely an excuse. And a good one if I may add. Your connection to the Fade is stronger than the connection of any other. Your training did not prepare you to face such an insistent threat. No usual training could." She shook her head.

"So, I have to deal with it. This is not your burden, it is mine. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for your help…"

"You just don't want to be in need of such help." She blushed a little. Of course, he would see right through her.

"Indeed." She noticed the slight smirk on his lips.  _Creators, what does he have in mind now?_

"If you allow me to help you, I may have a solution for this issue." She raised an eyebrow.

"Your solution to me not wanting help is to offer me yours,  _again_?"

"In order for you not to need it later. As you know, I have journeyed deep into the Fade. I have encountered more spirits than most of the mages. I could teach you how to protect yourself more efficiently."

_Fenedhis, what does he do not know?_ Finally, she nodded reluctantly. He stood up, satisfied, and gave her a hand. Naturally, she ignored it and jumped on her feet. She winced when she felt the stabbing pain in her ankle. He sighed. So much pride and stubbornness.  _So difficult._

* * *

She just went back to her tent after discussing with Leliana. Well, singing might be nice but it didn't give them any lead on what to do now…She jumped when she heard the well-known voice behind her.

"Lethallan, a word?"

She nodded. Solas guided her to his spot. He had his serious look on his face. This was never good. She was expecting the worst…Even if she had a hard time imagining what it could be now. He walked few steps ahead of her. She found her eyes lingering on his body. Thin, elegant but also muscled…The curve of his back leading to perfect-shaped –  _Wow, what the hell?! Pull it together, serious look, all this_. His hands clasped in his back, he was staring at the horizon – obviously back to this "avoiding-eyes" thing. She suppressed a sigh before he resumed.

"Herald –"A mumble interrupted him.

"You pissed me off to get my real name just to not use it…" She realized that she just said that out loud and babbled some apologies for her rudeness. "Fenedhis, it wasn't meant to cross my lips, please go on."

She slightly frowned, displeased by this poor control of her mouth. Three months not working and her training was far from her mind. She didn't see the sad smile on his lips.  _Don't you worry vhenan, I understand the burden of a title that all but replaces your name…_

"Ma nuvenin, Mahariel." he smiled before going back to his formal tone. She felt a shiver going through her spine as he said her name with this  _voice_. Fenedhis, this voice… "The threat Corypheus wields? The orb he carried? It is ours. Corypheus used the orb to open the Breach. Unlocking it must have caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave. We must find out how he survived…And we must prepare for their reaction, when they learn the orb is of our People."

She listened carefully, the words efficiently pulling her thoughts back to business. She took few seconds to swallow the news. She closed her eyes and sighed. Of course. A weird-ass-darkspawn-magister-self-proclaimed-god-to-be-bastard just  _couldn't_ use his own magic to put a giant hole in the sky. She stood. Cold. Stoic.

"How do you know?" Right back to her composure. And her endless curiosity, always thirsty for knowledge. He explained her how he acquired this information in the Fade.

"We have to do something if we want to avoid a new exalted March." She declared, nodding thoughtfully. Where he admired her wisdom and pragmatism, as ever, he found also himself bitter. How old could she be? He never asked, but hardly older than twenty-five. And yet, her reaction, her words…Her eyes and face even carried the burden of too much ordeals. Her sight was hardened. Despite her confident smile, her trust in her friends was not full - no better than his…She was always watching her back and waiting for the back-stabbing. He chased the thought. He didn't ask her to come to worry her – at least not only.

"What happened, the faith of human's hearts. It is the key. We have to be beyond suspicion. In order to do that, their faith must grow. Not only irreproachable, you will become irreplaceable."

"I?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid this burden is yours to take, lethallan." She suppressed a sigh. Finally, she came out with a knowing smile.

"You have something in mind, don't you?"

He smirked.

"Not something,  _somewhere._ A place they will call home. A place which waits for the force who will reclaim it. A place where  _you_  shall guide them."

He went on, explaining further on. As he spoke, her eyes widened. She was startled. An answer instead of a question! This was… A genuine grin enlightened her face, suddenly free of the concern.

"Solas, this is…this is wonderful! No, wonderful is insufficient...Why are we still here? We need to tell the others!"

She moved quickly, eager to share some good news. He simply turned around but stayed where he stood. He looked at her with his head tilted affectionally. The lightness in her movements, the excitement…She was jumping more than walking – careless with her wounds. He discreetly put a barrier around her to protect her still fragile bones. She was lovely. Her attitude did not appear childish. It could have on someone else but the grace of her every move, the delicate well-shaped curves of her body, the messy white hair stroking her shoulders sensually. He had a toothless smile on his face. If he could at least ease the weight he put unwillingly on her…

On her way, she spun towards him with a questioning look. He could feel his pupils dilatated themselves with her movement. Her hair flew from one side to the other. Her bosoms slightly jumped. The recovered hope looked astonishing on her. On the back of his mind, he regretted that she was not wearing her antaam-saar but her armor. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Coming, lethallin?" she nothing but purred. He smirked at her mischief.

"Ma lasa ghilan. I won't interfere with the  _Sacred Work of the_   _Herald_ " He teased. But he said it himself. She wouldn't take no for an answer. And he had put her in a playful mood. She reached him swiftly.

"I am not going to take credit for your solution, no way." Declared she.

She stood  _so_  close to him. Her eyes and smile glowing with mischief. He could smell her spring scent, feel the aura of her magic…melting with his. He felt her warm breath on his neck. He couldn't help but gulp. Moving was off-limit…If he moved, it would not be in a wise way. She had locked his gaze in hers. He was drowning in the green-blue lagoon pupils. He did not try twice to break the stare. His only attempt drove his eyes right to her lips – not helpful. His trouble was tangible. But so was his desire – barely in check.

She had no intent to make a move when she reached him. But his reaction…Well, his inability to react, the feeling of his warmth near her, his eyes deep into her, his forest scent…And there was the magic part. The sensation of hers mixing with his was intoxicating – in the good way. In an  _amazing_  way. She allowed the moment to last. She knew she should feel discomfort but none was there. It was heady. She might be more in control than him but she could feel her breath short. She eventually smirked and continued in a low, slow voice.

"Besides, you are named Solas if I recall. I happen to have a hard time believing you don't want to take credit." He lapped up everything she was saying, struggling to keep his composure. She resumed "admit it. You…" the already whisper was becoming a sensual purr. "…are craving for this."

He felt his hands shacking in his back and a shiver going through his spine. The two words who appeared in his mind where two he wasn't used to associate but which felt perfect.  _Well…Shit_.

Truth be told, she got caught in her own game. She was unwillingly biting her bottom lip, struggling not to let her eyes go down to  _his_  lips. In a demonstration of extreme willpower, she managed to step back, freeing him from his current stasis – well, more or less. She let out this peculiar flirty giggle of hers. Taking advantage of his trouble – this was the whole point of it after all…Kind of – she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the main camp. They had a bunch of people to amaze. He stumbled several times on the way.

* * *

"I am sorry to cut your thrill short, Herald, but an issue remains: even if you – or Solas – know exactly where we are heading, we are not even sure where we are. How do you intend to find this place, considering?" Cassandra asked, decided to play mood-killer.

"I still have capable scouts, Cassandra." Pointed out Leliana. "It won't be easy, but we can locate it."

"The soldiers are no scouts but they are eager to help as well." Added Cullen.

"We cannot spare that much forces. The people need protection." Mahariel stepped in. The heads turned towards her. She resumed.

"Let me help. I am no scout but I know how to find it: the mark. Solas told me the place is old…Really old. Elvhen old…" She hesitated. "I don't know how to explain it but the mark can feel it. It can give me the way." Some eyebrows frowned slightly. She sighed. "Turns out, not happy enough with putting a hole on the sky, Corypheus spoiled elven magic to do so."

The eyebrows stayed frowned but she quickly realized it was no anger towards the People. They were irritated but also compassionate.

"That is…unfortunate, Herald. Once we are safe, I will take care of this matter. You have my word, I won't let the Chantry use that against you or your people." Josephine finally announced. The others nodded instantly.

"Indeed. I won't pretend I really understand how this can help you find this place, however." Cullen said.

"Well how to put it simply…The bastard used an elven focus to open the Breach. The mark was a mean to enter physically the Fade ergo, it is somehow linked to the magic of the Breach and the Orb. Ergo, it is linked to elven magic and it can feel similar one. Like the taint for the Grey Wardens if you want. It gives them a sixth sense which allow them to feel the Blight." Leliana acquiesced instantly.

"Yes, I see what you mean."

"That is actually…Good" Josephine pointed out. Mahariel smiled slightly. Well, at least they were not eager to charge the elves for this madness. It was a beginning.

The discussion continued for a bit. Solas – dragged as he had been – was standing, hands in his back, few steps behind the Herald. While she explained her point, a discreet approval smile took place on his face. This had been a wise way to fill them in with the news. He had been ready to intervene but quickly find it useless. She was doing just fine. When it came to planning the journey, however, he raised his voice. She was asking Cullen how much time it would take to get everyone ready. She wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"That is out of question."

"Excuse me?"

"You cannot undertake such a journey for the time being. Your wounds are not fully recovered." She raised a skeptical eyebrow.

" _My wounds are not fully recovered_? First, I am totally able to undertake this journey and, more important, we are running out of supplies, the refugees –"

"Can wait few more days." He interrupted her. She frowned.

"Ar tel'isala mala enansal. Var shiral sahlin."  _I don't need your approval. We will leave ASAP._

"Ma isalas hamin. Mala vhen suledin, isala ma."  _You need rest. Your people can take it, they need you._

" _Mala vhen_?"  _My people?_  She repeated with disbelief. Josephine cleared her throat, hoping to drive the attention of the elves back to them.

"Herald, sorry to interrupt this…er…"

"Argument." Cassandra stated. "I don't know what you have been saying but Solas is right. We cannot undertake this journey until you are recovered."

Mahariel narrowed her eyes.  _Seriously Cassandra? You had to choose now to agree with him?_  She turned her gaze to Cullen. The Commander would see reason. He cleared his throat.

"You both have a point. Herald, we need you to guide us, and that suppose you not to be wounded. However, we cannot spare too much time. We are losing people every day."

Well, it was at least better than Cassandra and Solas. They ended up with a compromise: they would leave in two full days. Hopefully, with the healers and a good amount of rest, it would do the trick. They went to sleep after reaching the compromise. They could discuss the plan further in the morning.

* * *

Except when they would both meet to plan the journey with Cullen, Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine, Mahariel and Solas stayed apart during the two days. They were formal with each other, acting as nothing happened that night. Truth be told,  _nothing_  happened that night. But the ambiguity between us had been made a little too obvious for their taste.

As decided, the Herald was to scout forward during the journey. Despite her claim to know how to reach the fortress – which had been a bit emphasized in order to smoothen the news about the origins of the Orb – Solas was the one to know their destination. She didn't lie, she could indeed feel the elven magic lingering somewhere in the Frostback mountains. But right now, this was nothing more than a blur. She was still weakened by the events of Haven and could not reach the amount of focus necessary to locate it. Ergo -  _Well…Shit_. The words popped in both heads as they were understanding where they were going with that. Despite the amused knowing smile on Leliana's face when they both straightened slightly, they remained perfectly impassible. Thoughts were running in their minds, looking for a pragmatic reason to declare the perspective unwise.

Mahariel never knew if the intervention of the Seeker was pure coincidence or if their discomfort was way more tangible than they wanted.

"With all due respect to both of you, you are both mages. I would feel better if at least a warrior joined you. The Herald is still weakened and we do not know the dangers ahead. A sword would not be too much."

"I'm in too!" Varric's voice startled everyone. "Someone has to watch Seeker and Chuckles, before their grumpiness makes Grey run away." He winked at the group. Cassandra did not bother to suppress a disgusted noise.

"Well…At least  _one_ of them learnt how to smile lately." Leliana exchanged a knowing look with the dwarf who commented with a laughter.

"I knew I was right to like you, Nightingale."

Mahariel and Solas blushed a bit. Hopefully, the darkness of the evening masked it –  _Ma serannas Dirthamen, they said that on the evening meeting_. They remained, however, perfectly stone-faced. The Commander, far from noticing the awkwardness of the elves – or the meaning of the spymaster's comment – resumed.

"Fine. But once her leg is fully recovered, we will need both of you to come back to the main convoy. We cannot spare too much people. We don't know where the red Templars are and, unlike the Herald and Solas, the main convoy will hardly go unnoticed."

His words were welcomed by four threatening eyes. He endured the glares with surprise as Leliana and Varric giggled silently. Mahariel was even certain that the rogues high-fived in their backs. The meeting was soon dismissed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma lasa ghilan - You guide them


	18. Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! A shorter chapter this week, it felt like the best place to cut that. Hope some angst and solavellan fluff will make up for that *wink*  
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!  
> Additional translations in the end notes.

 

* * *

Mahariel and Cassandra were walking, several steps forward Varric and Solas. The men could hear the genuine laughter of the Herald and – more astonishing – Cassandra's one. Three months ago, the seeker was ready to give her to Val Royeaux where she would have been beheaded. Weird how things had changed. Even if they disagree on many points, there was a strong respect between the women. And even friendship.

Varric and Solas were walking silently for a while. The elf was looking at Mahariel. As always. Well, it was actually logical, he had to watch carefully the mark. Someone had to. He fought poorly the small smile which appeared when he heard her laughter.

Varric was looking at Solas looking at Mahariel. The elf had this little smile and this sparkle in his eyes whenever they were on her – and when he wasn't thinking someone was watching him. The dwarf shook his head as an old man amused by a kid in love acting lamely. Actually, maybe by  _two_ kids in love acting lamely. He, at least, suspected strongly as much. Solas' feelings had been made clear enough by Haven. He was still curious of what he babbled in his half-consciousness that day. He did say he had to remember these words for later…

And later it was.

"So Chuckes. If I recall,  _Ir abelas_  means I'm sorry." His elven accent was awful. Solas' features were suspicious. He frowned slightly but nodded.

"Indeed, Son of the Stone. Why this sudden interest?"  _Does he even realize he calls me that only when he is on the defensive?_

"Well, I'm more interested in the last word to be fair. Vh..Venan? Something like that?"

"Vhenan? And where did you hear this one?" He asked with composure without looking at him.

"You said it, Chuckles! Well you were a bit dizzy, the seeker just knocked you out. You said  _Ir abelas vhenan_. And after…Well it is a bit messy I recall  _Asha_ …Or  _Arasha? Ara, vhen_ something…" He shrugged "Don't make out the rest."

He was mangling every word but Solas understood enough to grow blank.  _Fenedhis what did I say? If you are to knock me out, at least do it properly! Whatever the second sentence truly was…It is better if I do not know I guess_. He remained silent, a formal face, still not looking at him.

"If you don't want to tell me, I can still ask Grey."

"I doubt she will be able to put some sense in such broken sentence" He paused and finally admitted. "I would rather you not to. These were not said in my finest hour and not meant to be heard." Varric nodded. An honest answer. Not the one he wanted, but still.

"Fine, Chuckles. I'm not trying to upset you, by the way. It's just weird to see how the wisest of us can be so lame when it comes to simple things."  _It is all but simple._ Varric didn't comment the elusive sad smile. He decided, however, to change the topic.

"So, how did you find this mystery of a place we are headed to?"

"I looked." Varric sighed.

"Right. Well, I'll go talk with our dear Herald. No doubt Cassandra will come walk with you as soon as I show up!"

* * *

When the night fell, the companions decided to draw camp up. For once, they didn't organize watches. They were in the middle of nowhere. The mages' wards would suffice. They quickly went to their cots after dinner, tired of the endless walk of the last days.  _We do a lot of walking, don't we?_ Hawke's voice had popped in Varric's head. First amused, he recalled the last events and sighed on the inside.  _I'd like to know who this "Corypheus" is. With a name like that, he's bound to go "mwa-ha-ha" at some point. I just know it._ Damn right…She was not going to like his latest letter.

Mahariel, seeing the woods near the camp, decided to go for a walk. She was all but eager to fall asleep. She knew these damn demons were awaiting her in the Fade, dooming her nights to be restless. Forests had always comforted her somehow. The opportunities had been too rare to be within since she left the Dalish. This was where she could feel home. At night, the serenity, the silence, the loneliness…It put her mind at ease. She walked quietly for a time, taking deep breathes.

After a couple of steps, she winced because of her painful ankle. She had ignored the pain all day long. She didn't want the other to see it. She would not slow them. She finally climbed a tree – an old habit of hers she would have thought forgotten. She sat on a branch, her back against the trunk, one leg swinging freely. Despite her best efforts, her eyes grew heavier.

* * *

_She was back in front of this trebuchet. But she was not alone anymore face to Corypheus. As he spoke, his dragon was spitting red lyrium all over the people. The cries were everywhere. She was unable to move. On her knees, begging the monster to stop. Powerless. The dragon turned towards Varric, Cassandra and Solas. They were fighting desperately demons and red templars. They were surrounded. Varric fell. She shouted. She tried to stand. Corypheus grabbed her throat and forced her to watch "this is your fault Herald." Spat he. A terror turned to Solas. Its claws sank into his chest. His eyes widened. He looked at her, gleam of life disappearing slowly._

" _Mahariel…Do…Something."_

_Her heart broke, shout and breath caught in her throat. She struggled harder, frantically. Corypheus sent her away in the snow. One of her rib broke. Her tears and sobs were pleading for her friends' life. She crawled towards Solas' corpse. She had to do something. There had to be something she could do! He could not…No. No! His skin was grey, his blood on her hands as she held the lifeless body. She leaned over him, praying, begging uselessly. A cruel laughter resounded behind her._

" _Oh, do not worry Herald. He is not dead."_

_The elf suddenly opened his eyes. Red. Reddened veins appeared on his face. "NO" was the only word she could pronounce, leaning backward with a jump, tears-strained cheeks._

" _Solas…?" She tried helpless. A wolfish smirk popped on his face. He stroked her jaw with a tenderness that did not feel right. But he was not dead. Her hand laid in top of his…And he suddenly pushed her in the snow fiercely. Her face hit a crystal of Red Lyrium. Solas stood on his feet, looking at her with loathe._

" _You let me die, harellan."_

_A traitor. It was what she was._

* * *

Solas decided to go in the woods to clear his head. The night was peaceful, and it was easier to venture in the Fade in a lonely place. Not to accuse anyone of snoring back at the camp.

It didn't take long before he spotted Mahariel on her branch. He first wanted to turn around to let her be. It was the best thing to do.

Then he heard the sobs, the babblings, the cries. He frowned, immediately filled with concern. He reached the tree quickly. He could feel the eerie presences. The demons were still here.

He stepped under her, looking for a way to wake her without startling her. Sadly, his footsteps were not as light as usual in his rush. The loud crack of a broken root made her jump out of rest. She lost her balance. The apostate was standing at the right place in a stride. First astonished when she ended up in his arms, she blinked and blushed strongly after few seconds. She wiped the tears she felt under her eyes. He scanned her features, seeing the bloodshed eyes, the wet cheeks. He opened and closed his mouth once or twice before finding his voice effectively. He cleared his throat.

"Herald, please excuse my intrusion. I thought you were asleep…In your bed, that is." He added, considering he just woke her up.

Her arms were around his neck. Once more, bridal style. This was becoming a weird habit. He kept her close few more endless moments. He realized he was losing himself – again – in her eyes. He finally put her gently back on her feet. She swallowed a bit and quickly cleaned her face from the remaining tears. She was thankful he didn't point them out. She recovered both composure and voice.

"No harm done, Solas. When I saw the woods, I couldn't resist the prospect of a night walk. I gather I'm not the only one?"

"Indeed. Few places outside the Fade are as serene as a forest at night. A good place to think and clear one's mind." A genuine concern appeared in her eyes.

"Is there something bothering you, lethallin?" He raised a brow.

"I could ask you the same." She averted her gaze, biting her bottom lip.

"And I would not answer. Point taken." Solas looked at her, unsure a moment. But he knew her. He knew better than to offer her his help to clear her mind or to show his concern. Instead he asked.

"The night is clear today. Would you like to take few steps, lethallan?"

She nodded without a word, still shaken by the vivid nightmare. She took the arm he offered her. He felt she was clinging to it more closely than she had to. He wanted to know what she saw, feeling the faint shudder in her limbs. But she would not answer. She never did. He still did not know what happened in Redcliffe. His only hope here was to take her mind away from it.

"This is not wise to climb trees considering your leg."

"Thank you for your concern but my leg is perfectly fine." He raised an eyebrow and look deep into her eyes. This was not a guess of his, he knew it was not fine. How did he… _Fenedhis._

"Ma harel, lethallan." She sighed.

"No, I do not."

"Let me rephrase this: this is not wise to climb trees considering your ankle."

"Touché." She whispered reluctantly. She frowned slightly and suddenly spun to face him "Wait a sec…This is why you were making us take breaks and - Fen'harel ar halani!" she swore.  _This is exactly what I'm trying to do, vhenan_  he thought, amused by the coincidence of her curse.

"You  _were_  walking slower than usual. You little harellan..." She continued with feigned anger. "the whole point – "

"was not slowing us. And you are not, I am."

He looked at her, chin high, confident smirk. She shook her head with a smile of disbelief. She rolled her eyes, even if she was unable to pretend to be angry at him. This man was unbelievable. She was thankful, even if it troubled her to admit it. She took his arm again to resume their steps.

"Ma serannas." Whispered she after few seconds.

"De da'rahn." Answered he in an evenly low voice.

They walked a moment in silence. He noticed with satisfaction she was no longer shuddering. None of them knew if they were hoping or fearing the point where it would be only the two of them. Probably a bit a column A and a bit of column B. This. Them, felt right, safe…home. Every inch of their body was telling them to jump. But their mind – for their respective reasons – were struggling to convince them what a terrible idea it was.

* * *

A couple of days later, Cassandra announced that Varric and her were going to wait for the main convoy. Mahariel laughed to her rolling eyes at the idea of being stuck with the dwarf for several hours. She knew the Seeker actually appreciated Varric. It was easy to see. She just hated that she did. The herald nodded and returned to packing. There was still a one-week journey ahead of them.

She realized that Cassandra's decision was the backfire of her  _my ankle is fine_  act. She should have anticipated it…Retrospectively inevitable. Well, on her behalf, Solas was well aware of the status of her ankle and he didn't point it out either. She intercepted the wink from Varric to Solas. She frowned a bit. This was not the first suspicious deed of the dwarf.  _What does he know I ignore?_  She found herself thinking. Solas disregarded the dwarf. Of course, he did. And yet, she was horrified to find herself disappointed by his disregard.

Solas and Mahariel began their walk, losing quickly sight of Cassandra and Varric. Observing he was still on a slow pace, she commented.

"Let's cut the act. We can walk quicker. My ankle is fine." He kept his eyes away and answered quietly.

"I'd rather not to." She looked at him with concern.  _You egocentric idiot, why would you assume this is about you?_

"Why that? Are  _you_ wounded?" He waved her concern away.

"You would be bathing in your own blood that you would still declare yourself  _fine_. Meanwhile, you will not be the one who will have to carry you if the bone break."

When thinking about her reaction to this sentence later, she would be absolutely unable to explain why she suddenly took offense. Still, she replied, upset.

"Are you saying I am fat?!" His head spun towards her, eyes wide-opened with stupefaction.

"What? No."  _This is ridiculous, how could anyone think that?! She is fitly thin!_ "It is not what I meant. No one with eyes could think that." He snorted a bit bitterly as he thought  _Not a single man think that, does she not notice the hungry eyes permanently on her?_

She opened her mouth and closed it right back, trying to understand his bitter tone.  _Do I detect a note of jealousy?_

He did not interpret well her silence, thinking her still offended. He suddenly stopped his steps with a smirk. His arm reached her hand. He made her spun back into his arms. He lifted her without a break. Mahariel gasped, absolutely dazzled.

And back to bridal style carrying. She stared at him. His moments of playfulness were rare and she had barely experience this side of him – impulsive, fearless, charmer.

"I would not mind carrying you for days, lethallan. But if I recall, you do dislike being taking care of, do you not?"

_This_  was definitely open for debate right now. She was hypnotized by his voice. Smooth, sensual, low as if he was sharing a secret. She could not find any witty words to answer – she could not even find her voice, so leave alone words…Satisfied of his effect, he finally put her feet back on the ground. He resumed his walk casually as she remained startled few more seconds. When she finally whispered, he didn't know if it was meant for him to hear. Either way, he did, and his heart skipped some beats.

"Ar dirthara…"  _I may learn…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fen'harel ar halani – Dread Wolf help me  
> Asha – woman  
> Arasha – my happiness  
> Ma harel - you are lying  
> De da'rahn – you are welcome


	19. Skyhold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

* * *

 

Except for this kind of little  _incidents_ , the days were going without troubles. As the two aloof apostates they ultimately were, they were doing just fine with a silent walk. Occasionally they would talk, mostly about the Fade – safe common ground subject.

As he had noticed, after the night he found her in the forest, she was avoiding falling asleep near to anyone. She liked her loneliness, and he did not question the why. He thought her nightmare a one-time issue, she was hiding her trouble quite well. In truth, the nightmares were there, relentless, every night.

Nightmares she had had since Redcliffe without letting anyone know.

They had worked on keeping the demons away in the day, and nothing like her panic attack happened again. However, she didn't mention him what was happening when she entered the Fade. The Anchor granted her the abilities of a dreamer – like him. A dreamer would drive the attention of demons more than a mage, add to this the beacon that was the Anchor, the violent distress she felt because of Redcliffe, of Haven…There was an army lingering in the shadows next to her. And she had no idea how to control that.

She regretted the absence of Cassandra. Her seeker training was useful for her situation. Once or twice, without anyone knowing about it except the two of them, she had asked her a magic cleanse when the exhaustion was too much to take. Of course, her explanation of the why to the seeker had been the understatement of the year. She could not let her know the entire truth. She would never have left her side and the refugee needed protection more than she needed rest. And, even if she was getting alone with the woman, she was an apostate and she was a templar – sort of. She could not let her know the truth of her situation, she would freak out and she didn't trust freaked-out-templar-instincts.

When she managed on the first night to draw discreetly her cot up far from him, he did not question it. Considering, it was a wise call for both of them. Between the veilfire and the blankets, the cold of the night was not such a problem. Especially when both of them could cast warming spells if needed.

The second night however, he heard her struggle. Exhausted, she fell asleep right after dinner. He decided to take a walk. When he got closer to her, he heard her scared whispers, her sobs, saw the sweat on her forehead, the agitation of her limbs. His heart broke. He was the one who did this to her.  _Ir abelas, vhenan…_

He came closer, looking for a way to ease her sleep without making his awareness known. She was too proud to let anyone see her weak. If she could have help it, she would never have fallen asleep before him. But her nights had probably been restless since Haven. Maybe even… _Redcliffe._   _She won't let me. Not anymore._  Had said Cole. Had the spirit been helping her since Redcliffe?  _How did you miss it?!_ He chastised himself.  _You saw how she was after Redcliffe! And after Haven, she had a panic attack, then you found her in a tree, where she was obviously having a nightmare, how did you miss it?!_

He hesitated. Reaching her in the Fade was an option but it could not be his first. There were very few things more intrusive than popping into someone's dreams…Waking her was not the right call either. She needed to rest, he had to help her sleep not to prevent her from it. Thinking, he squatted next to her. He put his hand on her shoulder. Her body shuddered a bit but she remained asleep. Instinctively, one of her hand came on top of his. He leaned his lips to her ear whispering elvhen words in a low comforting voice.

Her heartbeat slowed. It was still quick and loud but he could tell the difference.  _Maybe it was that simple…_ He thought, remembering Varric's words. He moved a little to lay properly without breaking physical contact. He held her in his embrace, his hand taking hers to stop the tremors. The elvhen was coming in a loop, as a sweet lullaby. He sometimes stroked gently her white hair. Her trouble was easing bit by bit with the words. Her head rested against his chest. He remembered Cole's words. She needed to know someone was alive…

When her sleep was finally calm, he stayed a little more, making sure the nightmare wasn't coming back. After an hour, he moved quietly to his own cot, blaming himself for not realizing her trouble sooner. Leaving her side at this very moment had been one of the hardest thing he had to do…He chased the thought. He could not let himself think about what will eventually happen. For now, they had to beat Corypheus or it would not even matter.

It became a habit of his during the next nights. He would stay up late, waiting for her to find her sleep. Then, he would lay next to her and help her defeat the nightmares. Each time, the weight in his chest when he left her seemed to become even heavier. Sparring some of his own sleep hours, he was more tired than he admitted. But he didn't care. It didn't matter. The darker the rings around his eyes became, the lighter were hers. He intercepted some concern looks of her during the day. But she respected too much his privacy to ask, confident that he knew she was here to listen and help if needed.

The fourth night of his little trick, the wind was colder. He decided to take his blanket with him when he went to Mahariel. As he fondled gently her hair, his fingers entwined with hers, the soft whisper reaching her ear, sleep claimed him without warning.

He woke up few hours later, in the middle of the night, with a shiver. The memory came back in a flash as he noticed the emptiness of the space in front of him.  _Fenedhis! You idiot, how could you be so careless, falling asleep next to her…What may she think now, pressing your body against hers in her sleep!_  He turned his gaze around, looking for her. No matter how much he was embarrassed, he was too concerned by her absence not to look. His eyes laid on the woods nearby. He jumped on his feet.

He found her perched on a branch, staring at the sky. The moon was full. Seeing she was fine, he considered turning back, his embarrassment coming back in a rush. As if she felt his hesitation, her head spun a little towards him, letting him know she was aware of his presence. He took a deep breath.

"Herald, I – "

"The Veil is thin here." Interrupted she, taking one of his own line. After few seconds, he nodded, confused. She went down, taking on her not to jump. Silent, she indicated him to join her with a slight movement of the head. Too uncomfortable to question the command, he complied. After few minutes of a silent walk, he answered.

"You said the Veil is thin here…The nightmares are louder here, are they not?"

She sighed. When she woke up and find him near her, she suspected as much. After all, it was how he defeated her panic attack. Even if they were not without trouble, her nights had been bearable for the last days, unlike the others since Haven. It began after Redcliffe, but it turned daily since Haven. Add to it the weird relation between her dark circles and his…She had him to thanks for that too. She nodded. He took another deep breath.

"Ir abelas, Mahariel. I overstepped my rights. I will understand if you want to wait for the main convoy to travel with someone else." Her eyes wide-opened, she looked at him with surprise.

"I'm not mad at you, Solas. You offered me some rest. If anything, I'm mad at myself for taking away yours. This is my burden, not yours. I should have been more careful, you were never supposed to know." She shook her head, chastising herself on the inside.

"I went behind your back, lethallan"  _Literally you sick man._  Argued he.

"We both know I would not have accepted your help." He frowned a bit with surprise. She was as careful with her choice of words as he was.  _Would._

"Will you now?"

"That depends. If I say yes, do you promise me to allow yourself some rest as well?" Startled, he genuinely grinned with a small chuckle.

"That's a deal, vhenan."

The last word crossed his mouth so naturally, he didn't even notice what he just said. She didn't point it out, too busy fighting – poorly – to keep her composure. Eventually, a smile and a blush took place on her face as she let out a little giggle.  _I really need to do something about this ridiculous noise which keeps coming out…_ It was not the first time he used it, but the first time it was actually meant to be heard. They got back to the camp. Despite the words they exchanged, his hand reached his blanket in order to go back to his own spot. She frowned a bit and instinctively, she caught his hand.

"Ghilas vellathan."  _I'd rather you stay close._ He nodded with an imperceptible smile and warmth in his chest. He laid on the ground and held her in a caring embrace.

* * *

The morning after, Solas woke up before Mahariel. It was later than usual for the two elves. His arms were still around her but he was no longer on his back. They moved for a face-to-face cuddling sleeping arrangement during the night. Her head was buried in his chest, her hands…ended up under his tunic? He considered the fact coyly, stroking instinctively her bare skin – wait what? He could speak of  _her_  hands, his were barely above her behind fondling her lower back. Their legs were entangled. And it came so naturally as they were sleeping… _I'm so deep in it._

Thinking of what lead to this precise situation, his  _vhenan_  popped out in his head. When did he stop fighting with his mouth wanting to call her that? And why did she not react?  _What reaction were you expecting? She realized the word was never supposed to cross your lips, of course she did not react. And she was right not to. You are just helping her fight the nightmares and only because you are the only one around. Stop thinking about it, this is madness, this is wrong – It all but feel wrong. And what? You have a plan and you know what it involves. Is it not wrong to get caught in some emotional entanglement? – She is not what I expected, what if I was wrong, what if this world has more to offer than I thought? Is it not wrong to pretend to be blind? – There is no other way – And what if they were, it is not like I gave it that much thoughts. I thought this was a world of tranquil, if it is not…– this is purely theoretical, you cannot allow to let a mortal change everything – But she already did – I am aware of that – Fenedhis will you SHUT UP._ He stopped his argument with himself for a second. He needed his head clear to think rationally. And a clear head could not happen while  _she_ was in his arms.

A feline yawn definitely put an end to the fight between his inner voices. Two sleepy green-blue lagoon eyes looked up at him, obviously wondering for few seconds how they ended up like this tooA truthful smile took his features with hearing the absolute adorable noise. It swiped his thoughts away. He stroked some strands behind her ear. She smiled to him and looked quickly at the sky.

"Hum, I take it we overslept. But look at this!" she added, brushing his face. "we prevailed over these bloody dark circles!"  _Wow, I managed to take my hands off his shirt without it being awkward! Victory of the morning!_

He noticed her little maneuver, muttering a chuckle at it. His eyes glanced down at her lips. It would have felt so natural to simply kiss her. Her eyes mirrored his, hesitation palpable in both of them for a moment. He eventually cleared his throat, giving a look at the sky as well.

She shook her head to clear her mind and rolled out of the blankets. This had been a nice interlude but they had a job to do. Well and, secondly, she was not exactly eager to linger here until the main convoy ran into them. She could hear the  _Niiiice_ of Iron Bull from here and see Varric's smirk. Bad idea, even worst that the mentioned sleeping arrangement –  _Arrrh no, second thoughts later, got to move!_

During the day, they never mentioned it. They were just walking, in silence or talking about  _safe common ground_ topic. They spoke about elven culture, even if avoiding obviously the Dalish question. Maybe they would occasionally glance a bit more at each other but nothing too obvious.

They made their mission not to walk too close from one another. The worst – or best, depending of where they were in their little loop of thoughts about it – was feeling their magic stirred together. It was a weird thing to describe. Mahariel's magic felt like a winter breeze over a waterfall hiding a new world, frozen blue, but delicate and warm as well. Solas' magic felt like the murmur of an ancient forest harboring mystery and untold promises, forest green, comforting and strong. And feeling them meeting each other, dancing around each other, entwining…It was intoxicating, sensual, even erotic without an actual touch between them. It was partially because their magical aura was actually somehow responding to their deepest desire – it didn't do that with the other mages. Hopefully. She had a hard time imagining feeling the same thing when she encountered any mage…Awkward. Still, they were staying apart. This was the only way to keep their magic in check.

However, when the night came they repeated the sleeping arrangement and that until the end of the journey. It was a secret between them that did not need any words and may never be discovered. Three nights later and during the afternoon, they climbed a mountain and there, she laid her eyes on it. Skyhold.

* * *

They entered the stronghold. It was only the two of them. Considering the last message of Leliana, the main convoy shall arrive in two days. She was amazed by the place. She looked at each brick, stairs…She felt herself getting emotional. They did it. A home. A place where the people would be safe. He looked at her excitement with genuine happiness.  _It was the right call._   _She will put it at good use._ This place had always been special to him. It had been his stronghold, then his secret for millennia. But he was sure. It was time for him to give it to someone who will make it even more special.  _Loan it. They are mortals._ She _is mortal._  A bitter heartache took him. Right.  _But maybe…She has the fire of our people, she is a mage – even if your plan does not doom her, which is very unlikely, the Anchor does – This is my magic. If someone can fix it, it is me – This is a long-shot… – but one worth it – and then what? You save her while you doom everyone she cares for?_ His teeth gritted as the weight in his chest became heavier.

She was restless, going from one side to another with a lightness…The grace of her movements, the happiness in her aura…Suddenly she spun back to him. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. What was she up to? She was not very far from him. She beamed once more when her eyes laid on him. She ran towards him and jumped in his arms.

"Ma serannas lethallin…Just...Ma serannas."

He instinctively hugged her back, warmth replacing the weight in his chest.

She was not the physical type. She started at anyone barely touching her. And yet in these last days, she had find herself cuddling with him more than she had since she was a kid. Her spring scent tingled his nose.

He wanted to keep her close but she eventually called off the embrace. However, she reached his hands as she stepped back. Of course, he knew the place already, but she intended to make her excitement contagious. She dragged him around the buildings. Skyhold needed a lot of renovation, but she could already see what it will become. In the garden, she would point at every side, saying precisely what seed they will put here. In the hallway, she pictured big fereldans mabari statues – she was quite fond of the dogs – Sorry,  _glorious war hounds_  – hanging with the inquisition eye…Or maybe something more diplomatic, like a hanging for everyone! Templar, mage, Orlais, Ferelden, Grey Warden…Why not the Dalish too! They ended up on the battlements, searching over the clean horizon for the others. Busy with the visit for hours, they finally drew camp up in the courtyard. The mood was lighter than ever during the diner. They soon went to sleep, the mind at ease.

* * *

The next day, Mahariel decided to put her time at good use. She began an inventory for Josephine. Around noon, she let her task aside and looked for Solas. She finally found him in a rotunda near the  _–_ future  _–_ main hall. He was painting. She stared at him for several minutes. His shape was perfect, the sweet lines melting into the stronger, the curves...She bit her bottom lip. Well, the painting was pretty good too. The stroke was meticulous. It looked like old elven paintings. The panel he was working on seemed to represent the Conclave. It was stunning. She was pressed against the wooden door in this particular nonchalant posture. His head turned halfway towards her. She could guess the smirk.

"Need something, lethallan?"

"Just enjoying the view." She replied smirking as well. He shook his head with a quiet laughter. He finished some details and put down his brush to fully face her – definitely smirking.

"Don't you have something to do today?"

"Yep and guess what? Inventory is just as fun as it sounds. Not at all."

"Coming here for a distraction, I gather?" His voice was slightly mischievous. She smiled and took few steps around, studying his work.

"I didn't know you were painting. Is there anything you don't know?"

"One rarely bragged about what he ignores. You said it yourself, my name is Solas. I'd rather not let you know." She giggled at the reference.

"Where did you find paints?"

"There was a remaining stock, preserved by an enchantment."

"I see." Her hand reached for her face "Can you tell if this paint is toxic for the skin?"

"It is not."

She nodded, thoughtful. She was not sure what to do with this. How many people saw her vallaslin, anyway? She could not resume her play. But…

"Thoughts?" asked he, considering her lasting silence. She shook slightly her head.

"I don't know. I feel like there is no point to hide them. All of the survivors saw them, 'tis not some kind of secrets anymore. I cannot ask a whole town to keep that to themselves. They won't understand and it will leak eventually. Still, I am not in peace with the idea of not covering them."

"You covered them a long-time. A lot happened since you harbored them proudly and openly. You are not the same person anymore." She snorted.

"Understatement of the year. The People will always come first but I cannot pretend like these years did not happen. I don't want to. For all I defended and said of the Dalish, there is so much I cannot be proud about what they are. What I was. Spitting on every human, on every elf who was not one of us. This is not right. Without forgetting I have been banished."

"You are allowed to be mad at them, lethallan." She shook her head.

"No. This was my call."

"It does not mean a part of you did not hope your People will stand for you as you stand for them."

"They did what they had to, to protect the People. 'Tis all that matter."

"You never said why you left in a first place. Or what exactly you have been doing after."

"I know." Came the short answer.

He remained silent a time, hesitating. He could offer her to take the vallaslin away but he did not really feel like it was the right call. Not for now, at least.

"To come back on the vallaslin, maybe it is simpler than you think. Maybe it is time for you to stop hiding, not just these but all of your tattoos. You are not the same person that these blood writing describe. Your body is bearing the demonstration of it." She considered his words.

"This is a good point. I will think about it. Thank you, Solas."

They discussed for a while and took lunch together before going back to their respective activities. They met again in the late afternoon. After dinner, they went for a long walk on the battlements. Their hands found each other as they remained silent, enjoying one more untold secret, and everything it meant. She stopped to watch the moon and leaned a bit forward. They could see the fires of a big camp not so far. They would join them the next day. He sighed on the inside and wrapped his arms around her. She felt his warm breath on her neck. He breathed the floral scent of her hair. One of her hand grabbed gently the arm around her. None of them felt strong enough to break the moment.  _This_ was going to stop as soon as the others arrived. These moments will eventually fall into the shadows –  _where they belong. It is for the best. This is unwise and ill-considered._  They were not speaking but their thoughts echoed each other. But whatever they thought, tonight, they couldn't let it go.

"I am going to miss you, vhenan." He whispered in the lowest voice he had.

"Me too." She answered just as low.

Once they were back in the courtyard, they shared an already melancholic look. They soon went to sleep. As he embraced her and her head found its place on his chest, he faintly kissed the top of it. That night, she felt his arms tighter around her.


	20. Inquisitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please, review!

 

* * *

The survivors of Haven stepped into Skyhold by half Cloudreach.

The main point of the first week was to settle in and establish supply lines as soon as possible. The healers still had a lot to do with the wounded and they were in desperate need of alchemy labs. Mahariel was helping them by preparing mists, poultices, and everything she could. But their stocks of herbs were low. Most of it blew up with the Apothecary and the Frostback were not the best place to find such furnitures, even by spring. The mountains did not care much about the seasons, the plants were shy and the snow immortal.

Mahariel could not do much more for the injured. Once there was nothing else for her to do, she ended up helping mother Giselle with the children. Especially the elven ones. The younglings were frightened by the humans. She was dazzled when she actually understood some of them were Dalish. Giselle explained her quickly that the said Dalish children had arrived with their mother. The twins – who were likely not more than six years old – were mages and the woman left the Clan which could not take care of two more mages. Six years old was such a young age to discover one's power…Not that she had time to give it much thoughts. Their mother being awfully busy in the kitchens, the children were at lost. There were but two faces which seemed friendly to the children: Dalish's from the Chargers, and hers. It kind of settled her personal interrogations about what to do with her vallaslin, since it was the only thing subsiding the dalen'en. They stayed with her most of the time for the following days, along with the few other young elves. Mother Giselle was taking care of the human ones and they spent a good amount of time trying to put the elves at ease around the others.

Conclusion, she had not a lot of time to speak with the inner circle. Everyone was busy somewhere. Solas, Cole and Dorian with the injured; Vivienne watching the mages and fighting with Fiona about the right way of handling things; Blackwall, Cassandra and the Chargers with the Commander working on protections; Leliana and Josephine sending messages all day; Sera helping in some way she could not quite guess; Varric disappearing randomly and being all jumpy. And when the all lot was not busy, Cassandra, Cullen, Leliana and Josephine were discussing in low voices about gods know what.

At the end of a very busy week, the courtyard and some strategic places in the building did not look like a wreck anymore.

* * *

She looked at the sword the Seeker was holding, skeptical.  _Nice of you, Cassie, but what the hell do you want me to –_ Her eyes widened. She turned speechless.  _Oh…Crap_. The people gathering around the stairs, every eye on her…The words hit home:  _the one who has led the Inquisition since a moment now_. She was talking about her! A slight smile appeared on Cassandra's face as Mahariel finally understood where she was going with it. She tried – poorly – to find her composure. A question popped in her head, and soon through her mouth.

"You would give this power to a mage?! An  _elven_ mage?!"

"Not just me. All of us." Replied she, failing at being comforting.

"Are you sure? Don't get me wrong, I am…honored is not even sufficient…But are you sure that's wise? They won't follow someone like me." The seeker raised an eyebrow of disbelief. She shoved the sword in Mahariel's hands before she could protest and stepped forward. She shouted to Cullen.

"Commander! Will they follow?" The commander looked at her, at Mahariel, and finally turned to the crowd – all of it with a confident smirk.

"Will you follow?" his voice resounded. An ovation began.

"Will you fight?" The applauses grew louder. The determination in their voices was overwhelming.

"Will we triumph?" She tightened her grasp on the sword and smiled at Cassandra.

"Your leader, your Herald, your Inquisitor!" He raised his blade, followed by the soldiers' and the bare fists of the others among the shouts of happiness. Her confidence back, she beamed and raised hers with the same strength.  _Inquisitor_.

The next week was but a huge blur. Between her new responsibilities, the renovations, the constant meetings with her advisors…She had barely time to breath. The absolute first mission for the renovation – according to the Ambassador – was to provide her with quarters worthy of her title. Despite her protestations stating that it was all but a priority, the Ambassador didn't step back and here they were.

When she entered them for the first time, she was amazed. The  _huge_ bed with silver finery, black blanket and red pillows…A little smile took place on her face. Were her favorite colors so obvious? On the wall above the bed, she noticed a painting and this time it was a full grin. A big tree with ravens in it, a halla near the roots and…Wolves? Of course, he remembered this short discussion in the Hinterlands. She had to find time to thank him, it was stunning.  _Little harellan, still going behind my back to do the loveliest gestures._ Thought she and giggled.

She closed her fist in irritation.  _Damn sound, STOP it._ She turned around and smirked at the Dalish glass on the windows. Obviously, Josephine preferred her being Dalish and found obvious way to make it known. She had clearly not rushed when it came to replace her antaam-saar lost in Haven. The Ambassador was way too happy to see her come around in a more neutral apprentice coat. Not that Mahariel complained, there was indeed way more important things to do. However, it was entertaining to notice they had had time to provide her an apprentice coat of dragonling scales, matching fingerless gloves and a black tunic whose off-shoulder cleavage was lined with silver threads.

She was going to head to the rotunda to thank Solas for the paintings – they had barely exchange a word during the last weeks – when someone knocked on the door. She heard the voice of Leliana and told her to come upstairs. The redhead reached the second floor and nodded her greetings.

"Inquisitor, sorry to disturb the little free-time you have." Mahariel smirked.

"But you have to talk to me and we spent all of our time in the War Room with other ears."

"Precisely." The spymaster grabbed a letter in her pocket and handed it "You should read that."

Mahariel took the paper without a comment and went through the letter. Her eyes widened as she let out a bitter laughter. Was that a joke?

"When did  _that_  arrive?"

"Today." Mahariel looked at the letter and read a part out loud.

" _Agents of the Inquisition, we learned the presence of one of our People among your forces, Mahariel of Clan Lavellan. We ask hereby an assurance than she is treated well and want to hear from her as soon as possible._ " Mahariel shook her head. "Sons of a bitch. They think anyone is buying their act?"

"I admit I was skeptical, to say the least."

"And you should be. They knew exactly  _who_ was the Herald. But when they learnt the said Herald became Inquisitor, the position became suddenly way more interested."

"Without forgetting they banished the said Herald." Mahariel looked up at her with nonchalance.

"You have been waiting to say that, don't you?" Leliana seemed slightly discomforted.

"I figured it was a sensible information for…Other reasons."

"I see. At any rates, few knew about the said banishment and the act was burned in Haven. I cannot believe they just dropped my clan name…Not that they had a chance to be credible without that. They think they can get protection from us."

"Can't they?" Mahariel sighed and shook her head.

"Of course, they can, if needed. But they could just ask me, not going through this kind of stratagem.  _I_  recommended the banishment, did they think I would not understand? Is it possible to send scouts, preferably elven ones, to the Free Marches to get in touch with Clan Lavellan?"

"Consider it done, Inquisitor."

"Seriously, can you be back to call me Mahariel?"

"I may consider it."

"I guess I will have to work with that."

"Inquisitor, War Room in five!" resounded Cassandra's voice from downstairs.

They looked at each other and Leliana made a sign towards the door. Mahariel's nose wrinkled the slightest. She really hoped she would get the chance to swing by the rotunda. She hesitated a bit and grabbed a paper on the desk. She wrote a short note under the prying look of Leliana. She raised an eyebrow at the Spymaster.

"You use to have the courtesy of being discreet, Nightingale." A sparkle of amusement jumped in Leliana's eyes.

"This was friendly prying, Mahariel. A whole different matter."

Mahariel rolled her eyes with feigned irritation. She climbed down the stairs on Leliana's heels. She stopped a servant to ask him to bring the note to Solas. The maid nodded and went right to the rotunda as the women made their way to the War Room.

* * *

Solas, working on his panels as he was, raised a surprised brow but took the message and thanked the servant. He opened it.

_Ma serannas, lethallin, the paintings are stunning as always. I intended to come here myself but I fear I found worse than a big dragon: an Antivan Ambassador. As soon as I defeat the beast – Creators burn this once read – I will stop by. Hopefully. Given this does not end in Josie's hands or I'm as good as dead. Seriously burn it. Mahariel._

He smiled genuinely at the note and let a chuckle out. Of course, Dorian did not miss it and leaned over the guardrail.

"Look at this, scandalous! Our aloof mage is getting smutty message!"

"Excuse me?" Solas turned towards the Vint.

"Do not try it with me elf! Everything is yelling your guilt! Proof one: smile. Proof two: chuckle. Proof three: blush. Guilty you are! So, tell me everything."

"I shall not."  _I did not blush._

"So, there  _is_  something to tell! How outrageous!"

"I did not say that."

"You did not say otherwise either."

"Fine. So, I am saying otherwise now. There is nothing to be said."

"Don't lose your split on it, Sparkler. He will not admit anything, believe me, I tried! And she won't either. You are not funny, you elves!"

Varric's voice resounded as he came from the main hall. When he actually tried to cut Solas some slack, he did forget Dorian had not been around that long. Despite of what the Tevinter had witnessed in the future with Mahariel, the attitude of the two elves afterwards convinced him that Mahariel spoke the truth and that there was not much between them. Until now.

" _She? Elves?_ God if this is who I think it is, this story is going better and better!" Solas looked at Varric with disapproval and frowned. The dwarf raised his hands in innocence.

"Don't look at me like that, how could I expect someone being blinder than Curly? Even him eventually got it!"

"There is nothing to  _get_."

"Right and you are not brooding, this is your happy face. Heard that before, didn't buy it either." Seeing the disregard of the elf he mumbled. "Er…The private joke is not as effective without the right audience…"

"I recommend you go find the right audience and you take the Altus mage with you."

"And…Right. See you later, Chuckles. Sparkler?"

"Wicked Grace?" The mage asked. Varric laughed.

"Remember you asked when I take your coins. I gather you won't join?"

"Indeed, but I appreciate the offer. Now if you will excuse me, I would like to finish this." Full-composure back, he turned back to his panel, grateful that the dwarf took Dorian with him. He read the note again with a smile. He was right that night. He missed her.

* * *

The meeting did not go as she wished, considering the advisors reported missing patrols in the lovely area of the Fallow Mire. Her nose wrinkled at the news. They had to see to that. She had hoped to go with Hawke to Crestwood…Fenedhis. She pinched her nose. This was becoming way too complicated already.

"Cassandra, get Dorian and Sera ready to leave at first lights for the Fallow Mire. Hawke, Varric and Blackwall will travel for Crestwood meanwhile to locate the Warden." Cassandra hesitated.

"Inquisitor, I would be more at ease if I could go to Crestwood with them." Mahariel raised a brow.

"To help them or to watch them?" Cassandra frowned a bit but did not answer. Mahariel shook her head "Go with them if you want, but do not antagonize Hawke  _nor_  Varric. Please. I will stop by to let them know, if you can still inform Dorian and Sera…Well, add Bull to it, we could probably use a warrior in the Fallow Mire." The Seeker nodded.

"I will see to that. Thank you." Mahariel grinned sarcastically.

"No problem, how could  _that_  go wrong? While we do that in Ferelden, Cullen, can our forces set a position in the Western Approach or is it premature?" The Commander seemed thoughtful a second.

"I will see what we can do, Inquisitor. Considering the recruits arriving every day, I could probably spare men before you are back."

"Perfect. If there is nothing else, I shall go packing."

When she went out of the War Room, she had a frown on her face as she was still processing the several reports. She bumped into Varric – Wicked Grace obviously finished by then.

"Oh no, not yet  _another_  broody elf! Hawke is on the battlements, she is way more gifted than I with those!"

"I am not brooding."

"Yeah, yeah and there are no puppy eyes. Heard that before." She waved away, decided to ignore reference she only half understood. The  _Tale of the Champion_  was not such best-seller in Tevinter and she had still not read it. Yet.

"Since you are there – "

She summed up quickly the conclusions of the meeting.

"Why is Seeker coming with us and not with you?"

"She asked. I count on you to take advantage of this time to be all friendly-dwarfy. We barely finished the tavern, I will be grateful if she could stop breaking the chairs."

"Duly noted." He paused and smirked "All boring business apart, can I ask why everyone is on outside duty except Chuckles?" Her face remained impassible.

"And Vivienne. For a good reason: Madame de Fer is all busy with taking care of the mages settling. Which is not that bad, however, a counter-weight is needed. Solas replaces me on diplomatic duty until Vivienne stops pissing off Grand Enchantress Fiona."

"Always all pragmatic and plausible, are you not?" She smirked.

"Would not be fun if I was not, would it?"

"Not as much, there would not be scores to keep. Well, it might be a good thing that you take Sparkler if Chuckles is to stay here."

"Problem between the two?" She saw Varric's contrite expression and rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, you said something totally innocent and now Dorian is not leaving him alone."

"That's…pretty much it." She shrugged.

"I see. Well, good thing Dorian will be with me, indeed."

She was thoughtful for a second. Solas was not getting along so well with Vivienne either and he had no private quarters yet. Better safe than sorry, let's prevent a diplomatic incident before it occurs. She held her hand to ask Varric to wait and took another paper from her pocket. She scribbled another note and handed it to him.

"Could you give that to him? I have to go packing." He grinned.

"So, it  _was_  from you!" She raised an eyebrow.

"You would have had one too if I did not bump into you." He pouted.

"You won't let me get a single point, will you?"

"Hardly."

"Not afraid I'll read it?"

"Be my guest."

"So not funny." He turned back and they parted. She headed to her quarter and him to the rotunda. He was going to enter when he remembered Dorian was back upstairs. No need to trigger back the conversation. He called Solas from the floor.

"Chuckles, a word?"

"What is it now, Master Tethras?" Asked he as he came.

"Just trying to make amends." He gave him the note "I did not even read it." He went back on his steps. Time for a drink with Hawke…And likely more elfy romance now that he thought of it. Solas looked at him going away before opening the second message.

_Lethallin, retrospectively inevitable, I am in a rush. I will be heading out tomorrow, I trust you to prevent Madame de Fer from antagonizing the rebel mages. If you need calm time, do not hesitate to use my quarters. Preferably, before you get the urge to kill her. Because it will happen. Twice an hour. At least. Mahariel. PS: Burn this one too or I will finish as a lovely ice statue before the end of the day._

He chuckled a bit and grinned, sincerely touched by the thought, even if disappointed not to see her. He came back to the rotunda with a neutral expression and placed the note in one of his sketchbook as he had done with the first one. It will be nice bookmarks.


	21. Crestwood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and following, it means a lot! Please, review! Let's get back to business, shall we? Time for a bit of action there. Additional translations in the end notes.

 

* * *

"My dear Mahariel, is it the good time for that?" Managed Dorian between two spells. Sera cackled.

"Vintie is gonna pee his silky skirts!"

"This is a  _robe_!" Mahariel snorted, aiming for yet another corpse.

"One more for me Sera. C'mon you are on a slow pace today!" Sera cackled even louder.

"That's what she said!"

The corpses were pouring from the foul waters, as they had been doing the whole day. Mahariel kept an eye on the path leading to the Keep. The targets were just as numerous as they had been five minutes ago. So yes, this was the time for an archery contest with Sera, seeing the situation was becoming boringly redundant. Iron Bull was twirling, axe slicing corpses in two and sending shards of bones all around.

"Boss, they keep coming, we should go on to the gates!"

"But I'm kicking Sera's ass!" Protested she. Though, it was merely for the jest. She could see they were not going anywhere with that.

"You can do that with the Avvars too."

She leapt backwards, impaling several corpses with a powerful arrow. She considered the remaining potions on her belt. Time to move on, indeed. The apostate of earlier had given them a hard-time, superficial wounds and sore muscles. Except if a crate of potions was waiting for them in the Keep, they could not spare more strength on the endless flow of corpses.

"To the gates!"

Both Sera and her disappeared into stealth, avoiding easily the corpses.

"Seriously?  _That_ is not very pleasant of you!"

"C'mon Vint, talk less, run more!"

"And refusing you the delight of my voice? Perish the thought, Oxman!"

Bull rolled his eyes and swung his axe as he ran onwards. Good point of their stealth, the women closed the gates behind them the second they were in the courtyard, preventing the corpses to give chase. Bull grunted.

"Okay, it was cute Boss, you are a decent archer but could you take back your staff? Or blades?"

"Funny thing…"

"Oh Maker, I hate when she begins with that!" Intervened Dorian, refreshing their barrier.

"I left the staff at the last camp. I thought I would not need it that much."

She aimed at the Avvar archer facing her, kneeling to send a stronger shot. Her eyes widened and she rolled lamely backward to avoid the great sword which tried to cut her in two. Damn that was close. She jumped on her feet. Well, she could see Bull's point. She certainly missed her spiritual blade right now. She leapt to avoid another offensive. She disappeared into stealth few secs and startled Dorian, reappearing next to him. She took the staff from his hands, letting the bow down.

"Just a moment."

The mage looked at her with wide eyes. She could not be serious. She fade-walked right through the huge warrior, destabilizing him. Dorian looked at the man now walking dangerously towards him. He sent a fireball that the Avvar dodged with his sword.

"Mahariel…"

The warrior felt on his knees almost instantly, spiritual blade impaling him. She grinned at Dorian, throwing the staff above the corpse as he finished his fall.

"Relax. Oh, that could be a new game: staff-passes!"

She started as Dorian's lightning almost brushed her spine to stop the man behind her.

"Would you mind focusing a bit?"

She turned around with a frown and placed a bunch of ice mines next to a line of archers. It drained more mana than it would have with a staff but they remained powerful. They exploded in domino, sending icicles into the Avvars who fell on the rear. A swarm of arrows finished them, letting the party alone in the courtyard.

She stretched her arms with a satisfied smirk. She was, as usual, wearing her Tevinter armor, war-paint included. No matter what changes she had conceded for the off-battlefield look, she was not crazy about changing the battlefield one. It was badass.

"Loot the corpses, I saw a lock begging for me to pick it when I dropped the portcullis."

She made her way up quickly, grabbing a lockpick in her pocket. She soon vanquished the lock and entered the room.

_Oh, a tome from the Grey Wardens? Blackwall will be happy to have that._  She went back down with the others. They finished the looting and went further into Hargrave Keep. They soon arrived in what looked like a Throne Room. With a veeeery big Avvar in it. Looking more like a qunari than a human actually.  _And this must be the one challenging me._

The axe of the Hand of Korth twirled fiercely as he rushed straight to her. Her face grew serious and she exchanged a look with her party. They spread in the room as soon as Dorian strengthened the barrier. Her nose wrinkled a bit as her eyes laid on the line of archers on the stairs. Fuck. She summoned a wall of ice in front of them to block their arrows.

"Dorian!"

"Got it!"

A chain lightning resounded loudly, spreading from one archer to another. Bull and Sera were keeping the Hand of Korth busy. Mahariel disappeared into stealth, reaching for the daggers on her belt. She ran around the wall of ice and stabbed two archers.

The third grabbed an arrow from his quiver and drilled it in her side. She groaned with pain and sent her fist in his face, putting him on the ground. A flashfire from Dorian panicked the last one while she finished the third on the ground. Her hand reached quickly her belly and she winced at the blood on her gauntlet. She drank a healing potion. She turned to check on Sera and Bull. Her eyes widened. The blond was crawling backwards clumsily to avoid the axe.

Bull shouted a war cry and charged the man once more. It took his attention away from the elf. Mahariel joined the spot where they were and grabbed Sera's elbow to put her back on her feet. The rogue nodded her thanks and they both resumed firing arrows at the man, Mahariel using her remaining mana to put Bull's axe on fire.

They sighed with relief when the Avvar fell lifeless on the ground. They looted the room, found a banner for Blackwall and released their men who were, luckily, alive. Well, that shall be all for that day. Better going back to the last camp. They crossed path again with Skywatcher who finally joined the Inquisition.

They made their way back to the Inquisition camp. Mahariel stopped by the scouts in charge to help them update the map of the area. She declared that she shall write and send the report of the rescue mission herself, so, they only have to concern themselves about the soldiers and see that they were alright.

Before going back to her party, Mahariel was intercepted by a scout with a letter from Cassandra. She was asking them to come to Crestwood as soon as possible. Mahariel frowned a bit at the quick description of the situation. She was going to tell the others that they were leaving right now but looked at their faces and thought better of it. They were exhausted. And so was she. First lights tomorrow then.

* * *

Dorian, Bull and Sera were discussing the situation at the Inquisition camp with Cassandra, Varric and Blackwall. Hawke and Mahariel had moved a bit, the Champion considering it would be easier to show her. Mahariel's jaw half dropped.

"Seriously?! Freaking Veil just had to be torn  _under_  the water?!" Hawke shrugged.

"Apparently. We managed to drain the lake. We should be able to access the caves and the rift from the old Crestwood."

"Just need the Anchor to close the thing and hopefully stop the corpses. Piece of cake."

The two mages turned back to gather the others, eager to be done with that and heading back to Skyhold. The women led the way to old Crestwood, discussing lightly with Varric. The Champion was slightly taller than Mahariel, with messy brown hair stopping at her shoulders and amber eyes. After a brief moment of angry suspicion considering the rumors making of the Inquisitor a Tevinter mage, they had quickly get along. She could not say more than someone else what she actually was – since Dalish was obviously not the all of it – but she did not act like the Tevinter mages she had crossed path with in the past. Besides, a white-hair elf from Tevinter, she could not help but think they were meant to get along.

They dealt with the rift under the water this very day and went back to Crestwood to share the news. Only to find the confession of the Mayor. Mahariel pinched her nose, considering the words of the man. She seriously did not know what to do with that. Her clan fled Ferelden at the beginning of the Blight. It was not that abstract to her, she had seen darkspawn, she had seen the corruption of the Blight. Hunters in her clan and, later in Tevinter, Felix. The mayor did what he had to, but it did not mean he had done what was right. She sighed. A problem which will have to wait. It had almost been a month since she left Skyhold. It was time to head back.

They left the next morning. Hawke let her know Stroud will meet them at Skyhold, the warden needing to be discreet.

* * *

Hawke, Mahariel and Bull grinned when the rest of them stopped in a  _Well…Shit_  stance. The dragon roared furiously. Not like they could ignore her, so close to the village.  _That_  was a promising start for the way home. The three who were definitely excited – or with a death wish according to the others – began to banter cheerfully as they rushed as one towards the beast.

"Why am I  _always_ hanging out with people who have  _this_  kind of obsession!" Protested Varric. Bull roared in response to the dragon.

"ATAASHI!"

Hawke and Mahariel exchanged a knowing look. The Champion nodded and stopped her quick path to draw a powerful barrier around them as Bull and Mahariel were already getting for the distraction, axe and spiritual blade at the ready. Blackwall and Cassandra passed Hawke few seconds later as Varric, Sera and Dorian stopped next to her.

"Would you be a dear and share the plan?" asked Dorian, beginning to send electricity bolt. Hawke chuckled.

"Easy. Fire at her, protect the others. Oh, and if she tries to talk, stop!" Varric shook his head, loading Bianca.

"She is not going to tell you how to become a dragon, Hawke!"

The dragon was in obvious distress with four enemies attacking her limbs and four others firing at her. But a pissed off dragon is not less dangerous. The massive beast raised on her back legs and shoved Mahariel and Blackwall away with her tail.

The armor of the Warden protected him but Mahariel took a hard fall. She felt a wave of regenerative magic. Hopefully, Hawke was a great healer. She groaned. Damn, she needed to talk with Commander Elaine, the woman mentioned she could perfect her arcane warrior techniques with some Knight-Enchanter abilities to enhance her barriers. She casted a glare at the beast who was tapping furiously on the ground to prevent the warriors to come back near her legs. She fade-walked to avoid stumbling on the trembling ground and drilled her blade into this freaking tail.

Not the right call. The dragon roared even louder and began to move her wings. The powerful wind reached even the spread rogues and mages, driving the all of them closer, most of them falling on the ground. Bull and Cassandra remained standing. The qunari swung his axe against the thick scales.

"TAARSIDATH-AN HALSAAM!" roared him in response once more. Mahariel winced.

"Seriously, Bull?!"

"Saying the one who wants to ride her!"

"As a  _MOUNT!_ "

Bull burst in a wicked guffaw, going on with his axe. Mahariel jumped on her feet and looked around for her fellow mages.

"Hawke, Dorian! Winter Grasp, left foreleg!"

They both nodded and the three of them casted the spell as one. Their magic combined was enough to trap the limb in ice. Cassandra and Blackwall charged towards it. Infuriated, the dragon tilted her head forwards, looking where Sera and Varric were firing arrows and bolts. None of them understood right away what she was going to do. Until she did. The wave of electricity escaped her mouth, digging fiercely into the ground. It did not take a word for the three mages to act as one again. They drew the barrier around the rogues. Varric and Sera looked startled, the electricity all around them but not touching them. The foreheads of the mages were sweating as they maintained the powerful defense. They could not keep that up long. Hawke shouted.

"Dammit you two, move!"

Varric and Sera turned and, understanding quickly the why of their survival, they disappeared into stealth to flee the dragon's wrath. Cassandra and Blackwall's efforts suddenly paid as their swords went through a tendon. The dragon stumbled, falling half on the ground. The Iron Bull rushed ASAP to the sudden access at her throat. He drove its axe with all his strength through the scales. The neck broke with a sickening crack and a whimper from the beast. The mages sighed with relief as they nothing but fall on the ground, their mana pool dangerously drained. Mahariel finally chuckled.

"I love dragons."

* * *

They were but few days away from Skyhold when Mahariel heard the well-known tune. She was on watch and double-checked the magic wards before going aloof from the camp to meet Oran. He was waiting patiently, sitting on a rock. Out of sight, but close enough. Her hood was away from her face, as she was certain enough he would be meeting her alone. He looked at her with a small smirk.

"Inquisitor."

She rolled her eyes, sitting next to him. She handed him berries she had been eating.

"Not you too."

"That's an unexpected turn of events."

He glanced at her with concern. As all her agents, he had been away when the attack on Haven happened. Hopefully so, as they had been tasked with moving the eluvian they had put closer to the town for the time she had been there. It had likely saved the precious artifact.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. How are things going? I hardly got a single report." He reached for a pile of papers in his coat.

"I know. Your spymaster is quite…On her guards. It is harder to get into Skyhold than it was in Haven."

She raised a brow at him. She wasn't buying that. He had obviously had chances to get the reports to her, he simply chose not to.

"And before Skyhold?" Inquired she, suspicion audible enough in her voice. Oran looked at her and sighed. Of course, he could not lie to her.

"I lurked around the Inquisition camp during your…Recovery. It was easy enough to have news of the Herald. I wanted to come and see you."

"But you didn't want to give me the reports I'd have ask for." She finished.

"Precisely. Eludyssia and I could take care of things for a little while. You didn't need that. I'm still unsure you do." He added, truthfully. She frowned.

"I'm fine, Oran. Thank you for your concerns. Now, what do I have to know."

He sighed but did not fight her. He conformed, giving her the latest news. They did not learn a lot in Tevinter, if not few names of Magister they better watched closely. She opened a letter from Briala, giving her news about the situation in Orlais. That she sent her a report personally was more interesting than the report itself. News were carried well enough by their agents and without risking to endanger the all of them if discovered. A signed letter, even in cipher... Mahariel took notes that the city elf was likely worried about the peace talks to come, and did this to remind her who her friends were in the Winter Palace. It was, however, a problem for later, as they did not get invited there yet. Oran confirmed her that they had an eluvian ready to use close enough to Skyhold. Everything was in order for now.

* * *

The night before the party came back to Skyhold, Solas sought the Fade for Nyreos. His mind had been elsewhere for too long already, and he needed to know how things had been going. His agent nodded his greetings.

"My Lord. I heard what happened. I'm glad to know you are fine. You handled things well." Solas raised a brow.

"What are you referring to?"

"Your Inquisitor. Interesting enough, our agents discovered fascinating things these past months." Solas frowned at the suggestion.

"I'm not blackmailing Mahariel."

Nyreos looked at him, skeptical. Yet, he did not comment on the matter further.

"The information is yours anyway, my Lord. In any case, I have what you asked about this  _Calessia_."

Solas seemed surprised the slightest. With all that had been going on in the meantime, he hardly remembered he had asked his agents to uncover this part of Mahariel's past. For all he was curious, he now felt uncomfortable about prying this way in the woman's past.

Nyreos did not wait for any invitation to sum up their discoveries. As it turned out, Calessia had become a magister's apprentice three years ago. Magister Aventus was but a minor voice in the Magisterium, and had lost his previous apprentice but few times before in a Ben-Hassrath ambush. Apparently, the elf saved him from Tal-Vashoths, demonstrating of remarkable skills as an Arcane Warrior. The techniques being utterly elvhen and not mastered often in Tevinter, it intrigued the mage enough for him to offer her the status of apprentice.

Solas listened to the story, having no doubt the Ben-Hassraths ambush as much as the Tal-Vashoths' ones had been orchestrated with care. She had been as careful as ever and no one in Tevinter was suspecting her to be an undercover agent from the Qun, but the knowledge he had already made him absolutely sure of that.

"Interesting enough, the dates match for something else. Merely a coincidence perhaps, but you could be interested." Added Nyreos. "Few months after she arrived there, attacks against slavers have been reported, as well as actions by the elven underground in the Imperium."

"Elven underground?" Repeated he questioningly. Nyreos shrugged.

"Reports are…Unclear, even for us. We cannot manage to say if these are the deeds of Briala's agents or of the Banal'ras. Or both, we did suspect they were linked after all, and considering the dates…"

"They could have allied once the eluvian network was discovered. It would make sense, yes."

He nodded, thoughtful. It could be a coincidence; the network would have offered Briala and the Banal'ras a way to extend their range. But he would not exclude the possibility of Mahariel/Calessia's presence having something to do with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ataashi (qunlat) : dragon  
> Taarsidath an-halsaam (qunlat): I'll bring myself sexual pleasure later thinking about this with great respect


	22. Long time no see

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Additional translations in the end notes.

 

* * *

The party was back in Skyhold by the middle of Bloomingtide.

Mahariel jumped down her hart and right into stealth. She had the firm intention to take a bath before anyone shove any report, request or whatever into her hands.

Once the bath was done and she was back in comfortable outfits, she did not have a lot of choice but to go right to the War Room. They had to discuss what Stroud told them. The Grey Warden situation was not getting any better.

After the meeting, she took the reports and headed for the battlements. It was her best chance to be actually alone, without the nobles jumping at her. She hesitated on the way when she glanced at the closed door of the rotunda. She had wanted nothing more than to go through it all morning. She bit her bottom lip and shook her head with a self-directed scowl.  _No, not wise._  Damn, she really thought the time out was going to put some sense into her head and vanquished the ill-considered feelings. Did not go that well. She had spent a third of this time thinking that he would have like seeing something, a third thinking that she had to tell him about what was in front of her, and the last one chastising herself for the two others. Fenedhis. She was deep in it.

She made her way on the battlements, enjoying the hint of fresh wind. She sat on the ground, the papers all around her laps. Absorbed by her reading and thinking, she did not hear the steps coming towards her. She was biting her bottom lip and playing with her hair – as she did when she was focused. She startled at the voice.

"Inquisitor?" Focused as she was, she did not give thoughts at the voice and nothing but yell, expecting yet another Orlesian.

"VENEDHIS, is it so hard to see I'm busy?!"

Her head spun towards the trespasser and her eyes widened, mouth ajar.  _That_  was not how she had pictured greeting  _him_.

"Fasta vass, sorry lethallin! The nobles are driving me crazy! They are competing to become my rightful shadow. I…What – what can I do for you?" She babbled, blushing of embarrassment for snapping at him.

"This is quite the title." Said he, suppressing a smile. "I should not have bothered you, Inquisitor. I will let you return to your duties."

She watched him turning back with disbelief and jumped on her feet. She grabbed his arm.

"I will not beg you to stay, Mage." Solas raised an eyebrow and a sparkle of disappointment appeared in his eyes.

"Mage?"

"If you keep up with  _Inquisitor_ , mage it is." Her knowing smile comforted him and he smirked.

"Fair point, Mahariel." They stayed few seconds in a more or less comfortable silence before he resumed. "Lethallan, I had to ask you something."

This time the sparkle of disappointment was in her eyes. Of course, it was why. Why would it be about anything else? Oh yes, because they did not exchange a word in two months, for example! Not that  _he_ was to blame for that, she was the one gone and who asked him to keep an eye on Vivienne. Not that there was someone to blame, by the way, that was the right call…But pragmatic thought had kind of left her mind as soon as he appeared, focusing on the simple task of not jumping in his arms. She answered dryly.

"I'm listening."

Solas was not looking at her, decided to keep himself in check. Her absence had not been as efficient as he thought to drive the ill-considered feelings out of him either. Quite the opposite actually, he was worried sick during the whole time. The spymaster had been accommodating and kept him updated on the reports she got without teasing. He simply nodded each time but she could tell his eyes were full of gratefulness.

He hesitated before coming to her. He suspected her aloof attitude since she arrived at Skyhold was more or less due to the same matter. If it was so, she was wiser than him. Or maybe he made her uncomfortable…Words flew naturally from his mouth with her and he was only half sure a  _vhenan_  had been said. But he had to talk to her, he could have sent her a message but eventually, he could not avoid her for this.

"Would you mind my presence in your quarters later? It has revealed hard to find a free-time in your schedule with the Ambassador." She paused a sec, looking at him with wide eyes. She genuinely laughed.

"Solas, you do not need to schedule with Josie! Potentially, you knock, that's it! Truth be told, I could use the distraction. I'm drowning under Orlesian mess!" He smirked.

"I shall keep that in mind." He cleared his throat. "I will see you later then." Once again, she grabbed his arm, looking with disgust at the reports.

"Does it have to be later?" He chuckled, his eyes quickly meeting hers.

"Ma nuvenin, lethallan." He reached for the papers and gathered these in his hands. She grinned and walked quickly and lightly. Before they went through the door of the main hall, she stopped.

"Wait! Give me some reports, keep the others and look at them with your serious face." He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and don't forget the concerned Fade-expert talk!" He chuckled and nodded. She smiled and declared "Show's on!" before slamming the door. She suddenly spoke louder, her steps confident and urgent.

"Considering these reports, we have to deal with this area ASAP. The risks of new rifts in such crowded region cannot be ignored."

"I fear you are right, Inquisitor. Measuring the Veil is not easy task but I do believe these reports reliable on."

"I am taking your word on it, Solas. So, if I understood properly – "

They crossed successfully the doorstep of her quarters before her sentence came to an end. Relieved, she turned back and pulled instinctively her arms around his neck, hugging him. Surprised at first, he gave her embrace back with warm heart.

"Nice job, Mage!" She teased him. He grinned.

"I see you put your remarkable drama skills at good use."

A giggle crossed her lips. She tried poorly to cover it with a cough, leading to an amused chuckle of the apostate. He felt her hot breath in his neck, sending a shiver through his spine. Damn he liked this giggle of hers, flirty and coy. Finally realizing what she was doing, she quitted the embrace with a blush.  _One thing, one freaking thing NOT to do and you manage to fail gloriously._ With a sign of her head, she invited him to come upstairs. His eyes lingered a bit of their own will as she walked in front of him. Once they were upstairs, she decided to prepare some tea – mostly to keep her hands from doing anything stupid. Again. He stopped her with his hand.

"Let me, lethallan. What kind of elven servant would I be if I was to let you do your own tea?" She blinked, not sure she heard correctly.

" _Elven servant_?"

"This is the was the nobles of your hall call me." Answered he lightly. Apparently, it did not amuse her that much.

"They call you what? These felasil'en are going to hear me!" He grabbed her hand as she was about to storm through the stairs.

"Tel'isala, vhenan. I do not mind and I even rather keep it this way."

"What? Why? They say that just because you have pointed ears!" He smiled slightly.

"This way they do not bother speaking to me as they do with the ones they consider of importance." She mumbled, her anger a bit appeased.

"Still don't like it…Sure you don't want me to kick their stupid feather-asses?"

"Absolutely." He answered with a muttered laughter. His eyes were staring into hers, soft and caring. He added quietly, his hand drawing her jawline "But I appreciate the thought, vhenan."

She blushed a little, her mind at ease.  _Two in a row._  It seemed so natural each time, the thought of pointing them out didn't even cross her mind – she was not even sure he was self-aware of his use of the term. Not that she admitted to herself she was afraid he would stop using it if she made a comment. She was rather uncomfortable with all this. The flirt had been a mean to an end for a long-time. This whole honesty-based, not ulterior-motive thing…The last time she experienced that, it did not end up well. At all. These stolen moments with him, natural and never mentioned afterwards, were all she could currently manage. She was, however, wondering about them…Were they casual flirts or did he realize her lack of ability in the matter? Or maybe it was the same for him…She couldn't guess. Well, casual flirt and calling her  _vhenan_  seemed…Unlikely. But she did not want to let the thoughts dawdle too much this way.

His eyes glanced dangerously at her lips. He took back his hand gently despite a certain urge to step back and went prepare the mentioned tea.  _You are so deep in it. You have to stop it, you make her uncomfortable – she started it – No, she hugged you friendly down the stairs, you started the ambiguous part – THIS is not the debate, no matter who started what, it has to stop, you cannot allow it – she is…so much more than I expected, maybe… - maybe nothing you simply CANNOT._ But whatever the words in his head, they all disappeared as soon as he looked back at her.

She sat quietly on the seat facing his, the table between them. She waited to look him take a sip, for the pleasure of his creasing disgusted nose when he tastes the stuff. As it happened as predicted, she hid a giggle.  _Never missing_. She took her mug. She felt the boiling water suddenly reaching an ideal warmth right before it came to her lips. Solas had his eyes on the reports. She smiled slightly and pointed out.

"I could have done that."

"Do not take away the charges of a humble servant."

He kept his head down but peered up at her eyes with a wolfish smirk. She felt a thrill running down her neck. The smoothness and playfulness in his voice and this teasing look. Not only teasing. Hungry, filled with lust. Her cheeks burnt. The little shadow over his curved lips…Fenedhis, she was yearning to close the space between them, to taste his lips, to – Hopefully he ceased the look and got back to the reports.

She suppressed a sigh of relief. Her skin was on fire. She waited few seconds for dignity before urging to the window. Well, from the outside, she walked to the window nonchalantly but the truth was she urged there, in deep need for fresh air. Or snow. Or ice. Yes, ice would be nice. She opened it and took a deep breath on the balcony.  _This was unexpected…This is what you get for not thinking twice. Yes of course come in my quarters, how could it be a bad idea? 'Tis not like the fear demon haunting me had been replaced by a desire one! Dirthamen ar halani, is it even possible he did not notice? Well, at least he is polite enough to pretend so._ Finding some composure back, she asked.

"I take it you wanted to talk to me?"

"Indeed. This is kind of a personal matter…" The fear which just left came back in a rush.  _NO no no no no -_ She considered seriously climbing down the guardrail. "I wanted to know if you had encounter any trouble with the Anchor lately."

"Oh  _that!_ " She sighed, a weight leaving her shoulders. He looked at her, somewhere between questioning and teasing.

"Were you expected some other topic, lethallan?" But he could not beat her so easily.

"Considering the nobles downstairs, I was expecting another report about  _pointed-ears heathen sacrifice_  tale."

_Smart woman._  He realized only with her reaction his introduction could have been used in a very different context…Which will indeed require words to be said sooner or later. But he was not more eager than she was to have this particular conversation so the postponing was welcome for both parts. He would bring it up if he thought she was going to talk him out of his insane fantasies. But he was not so sure about it, considering. Chances were even for her talking him out or in – and he clearly did not need to be talked in. If one of them could stop it – whatever it was – it was her.

She did not notice, but  _she_ was the one breaking the stare earlier. It had been subtle, but remained her doing. He was close to jump over the table and kiss her with all the passion he was holding back. He was craving for her. For her touch, her warmth, her taste, her lips on his…His mind way too often wandered, wondering about the taste of her mouth and her skin, how would sound her voice as she moans –  _NO_.  _You cannot do that. Not to her, she deserves better than a liar – I did not lie – considering the omissions we are talking about, it is hardly better. How dare you even think about IT?! Fenedhis I need a bucket of cold water. Snow. Ice. Definitely Ice._ When she had stood up, his eyes slipped towards her hips once more. The black outfit under the apprentice coat was tight, letting him guess her curves. Not sure it was so much better than the front with its cleavage. And this silver thread lining both the low neckline and her waist.  _I am going to need a full avalanche…_

He was contemplating her with adoration. When she came back towards him, he looked at her face. The vallaslin were of a light grey ink, and – despite their cruel meaning – they suited her face, as a light-shadow effect on her forehead and chin. Her deep green-blue lagoon eyes with this indescribable sparkle in it. This sparkle screaming  _Elvhen_. He hid a jolt when her answer about the mark interrupted his contemplation. Even if she was saying everything was fine, he asked to take a look. She always answered everything was fine when it was about her. She nodded and took off her glove. He felt his skin burning again with the simple gesture. He decided swiftly to find a topic to talk about during the check-up, otherwise he feared the physical contact was going to be too much to take.

"If you don't mind me asking, I have been wondering, why Ghilan'nain vallaslin?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Why not? Halla are noble animals." He suppressed a chuckle.  _So difficult._

"I did not question that. However, you were in your clan long enough to receive the blood-writing. I assume you were First or Second of the Keeper. Shouldn't you have follow the vir Atish'an and received Sylaise markings?"

"You notice surely what a disaster I am at healing." His thoughts wandered out loud and he did not realize the subtle soundproofing falling around them.

"Your skills in combat…You followed the training of an assassin, the vir Banal'ras." Her back straightened the slightest. "This is unusual for a Dalish mage. And it does not explain the vallaslin." She remained silent a bit.

"I see I was wrong. You do know a lot about the Dalish ways." She paused, examining his face, tilted as he was above her hand, looking for any signs. She finally asked. "Are you going somewhere with these considerations of yours?" He looked up at her questioningly, feeling her voice slightly colder.

"My apologies if I pried, lethallan. It was not my intention." She examined again his features with suspicion. She bit her bottom lip, hesitating. She finally let out.

"My mother was the halla Keeper of the clan. In clan Lavellan, the tradition is that the charge is hereditary. Despite my magic which prevented me from taking the said charge, the circumstances of my departure made that I was granted the vallaslin of my bloodline." She looked at her right shoulder where rested her braid. "And their hair. Lucky me."

"What do you mean?" She pointed the braid.

"The hair of the halla-Keeper is bleached during the vallaslin ritual. As a symbol of our connection to the herd."

"I see. That does answer another question." She smirked.

"I was feeling generous today."

He peered up at her with a discreet smile. She was making light of it, but sharing anything of her past had been a complicated matter ever since they met. That she was willing to open up to him was warming his chest.

"You did not have a say in this, did you?" She shrugged.

"Let's say they did not really considered the consistence of bleaching the hair of an assassin. Jet-black hair did not require that much hiding. White, on the other hand, are kind of noticeable. And no freaking way to dye them. I'm not sure how it is done for it to remain for life. I suspect it has to do with lyrium." She took a little strand between her fingers and winced at it. She swiftly shook her head and grinned. "Hopefully my eyebrows remained black, Creators it would have been awful otherwise!" A sparkle crossed Solas' eyes.

"I doubt that, lethallan." He smiled but it soon turned into a disapproval look, even anger-tainted. "I however cannot believe your people would distort a child with no further question." She suddenly took her hand back from him, openly offended.

"You think I'm  _distorted_?!"

"No! It was a poor choice of words, it is not what I meant. You are perfect just as you are, but your own will should have been part of the equation." He explained himself in a rush.  _True enough…_ She subsided and put her hand back on the table. He had actually finished with his examination anyway. A sad smile clang to her mouth.

"The Dalish are what they are. Back then, the idea of protesting did not even cross my mind. Why would it? This was – and still is in some extent – an honor, a pride, a symbol of belonging I earned." She paused and closed her eyes. She shook weakly her head and resumed, voice soft. "We never talked again about the Dalish. Truth be told, I am in good place to know my people are not perfect, far from it. And for what it is worth, I'm sincerely sorry for whatever they did to you." Her eyes met his. He considered her face a moment before answering earnestly.

"Thank you, Mahariel." A sparkle of sadness and melancholy jumped into his eyes as he added. "This is my fault. I should not expect the Dalish to be something they cannot be."

Mahariel looked at his expression with sincere concern. The distant look of someone lost in some long-forgotten memory. The man was so moved by what happened to Elvhenan. Every elf was, but most were angry, not sad…Not like that. Of course, very few had seen what he had in the Fade. It could not make that easy for him.

She suddenly turned crimson as his words of earlier hit home.  _Perfect just as you are? Why does he have to say things like that oh-so-naturally?!_  The fierce blush caught his attention, making him get out of his contemplation. She cleared her throat, decided to pretend like the blush did not exist and asked, softly.

"Tell me the story of a spirit you encountered."

He smiled slightly, appreciative of what she was trying to do. Of course, a story could not make him forget what he did, but she could not know that. He was going to answer when a knock resounded. Mahariel bit her bottom lip and looked at him apologetically before she cleared her throat and declared with a louder voice.

"Come in."

Leliana, Josephine and Vivienne began their speeches before they reached mid-stairs.

"Inquisitor, Sorry to barge in but we really need – "Josie interrupted herself at the sight of the second elf. She put a polite smile on her face and nodded her greetings. "Solas, happy to see you managed to see her. Is the Anchor stable? Do you need us to come back later?"

Vivienne muttered a disapproval sigh and Leliana's eyes laughed silently. With eyes and ears everywhere, especially in Skyhold, the spymaster always knew better. Everyone had learnt to expect her to be aware of their every word – and it was likely the case. And her soundproofing must have appeared…Suspicious. Well, she was not fond of the teasing but she definitely preferred that to what she could have heard, considering where the discussion was heading at some point. Hopefully a good part of her job was to keep her mouth shut. And so was the job of her agents. Solas nodded back in greeting and stood up.

"No need, Lady Ambassador. The Anchor is stable and there is no concern to have. I was about to leave."  _Were you now?_ Mahariel suppressed a raised eyebrow of disbelief. He headed to the stairs. He turned back before going downstairs and greeted the ladies. "Spymaster, Ambassador." he paused imperceptibly and his tone became slightly sharper. "Grand Enchantress." He spun to Mahariel with a small smile. "Inquisitor." This time she did raise an eyebrow.  _I thought I made myself clear on this._

"Mage." He smirked and went back on his last word.

"Dareth shiral, Mahariel."  _Here we go! Better this way, isn't it?_ She nodded and smiled back.

"Dareth shiral, Solas. Felel?"  _Later?_  He gave a smile and nod as he finally took his leave.

She decided to simply ignore the hardly hidden rolling eyes of Vivienne. She looked at the three of them. Well, jumping across the balcony was still an option…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dirthamen ar halani - Dirthamen, help me


	23. Between dream and business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mahariel has to go away again but before she does, an unexpected visit in the Fade intrigues her to the highest point. Vivienne expresses her concerns about something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please, review! Additional translations in the end notes.

* * *

 

The improvised meeting with Josephine, Leliana and Vivienne turned out to be an unexpected topo about preparations to face Orlesian nobility. Damn, she really hoped she had already demonstrated she was well-versed into the Grand Game. Sadly, she had still missed a lot of what happened in the last years – six entire fashion seasons she was not aware of, how outrageous! More importantly, her manners were indeed perfect for a bard. It needed some readjustments to be proper for the Inquisitor. Apparently. She really should have jumped over the guardrail when she had the chance.

But they were just coming to fill her in about the incoming schedule related to that topic. The meeting did not take long. After another hour on the reports, she decided it was time for a break, a monstrous headache being proof of it. She wanted to resume her discussion with Solas and headed downstairs. She entered the rotunda. Solas looked up from the book he was reading and smiled to her without a word. He finished the line he was on – all composure there – before closing it.

"Lethallan."

She opened her mouth but the slamming of the door leading to the battlements cut her short. Hawke, Cullen and Stroud on her heels, hurtled through the stairwell. When she spotted her, the Champion exclaimed dramatically with large gestures.

"Ariel, to the War Room!"

Mahariel frowned and opened her mouth but the Champion shoved her towards the door with force magic. Mahariel started at the push, clearly not expecting such sovereign order and glanced at Cullen, looking for some sense. The man cleared his throat, glaring at Hawke.

"Inquisitor, we should indeed head to the War Room. I just received a report from the Western Approach. We are clear." Stroud took over.

"We have to go. Now."

Mahariel looked from one to another, processing.  _Now? But we got here this morning and –_  she glanced quickly at Solas, managing to keep her frustration away from her face. The mage gave her the most imperceptible smile and nod. She gave him another apologetic look and suppressed a sigh.

"To the War Room, then." She glared at Hawke with feigned anger. "Don't ever do that again. Oh, if we are heading out, can I interest you in a game of staff-passes?"

"That sounds weird. I love it already!" Dorian tilted over the guardrail, already talking to their back.

"You almost got myself killed with that!" Mahariel yelled back from the corridor.

"Almost!" Solas could not help but looking up questioningly at the Tevinter.

"Staff-passes?" Dorian grunted.

"Don't get me started on  _this_  amazing idea of hers. It was right after the  _let's go into a hostile stronghold without staff_ and before  _oh look a dragon! Let's wake her up!_  I'm going to lose my wonderful hair if she goes on like that."

And, he should not have asked. He was worried enough about her when she was not here, knowing that was not going to help.

* * *

Mahariel looked at the map of Orlais and sighed.

"How much time to get there? Two good weeks, I guess." Cullen considered the map and nodded.

"A small party can make it in a fortnight, yes."

"Considering scout Harding's reports, the area is a mess…We won't be back before Solace." She looked up to Hawke and Stroud. "Be ready to leave at first lights." Josephine looked at her.

"So soon? But you came back this morning!"

"And this cannot wait, Ambassador."

"But – "

"Maybe the Inquisitor will consider taking Madame de Fer with her, Josie. So, she won't be late on schedule." Interrupted Leliana. Mahariel managed to suppressed the wince threatening to claim her features and nodded.  _Whatever._   _I guess my_ later _actually meant let's talk next month. Again._

* * *

Unsurprisingly so, while he barely commented the fact, Solas received the news of the party going away again with mixed feelings. A part of him still hoped time away shall do him some good. She stopped by herself to let him know, for once. Her discomfort was obvious at doing so, a part of her somehow questioning what had crossed her mind for her to end up face to him only to tell him she was going to the Western Approach. This was preposterous, all of Skyhold would be well aware of that within fifteen minutes. The attention smoothened somewhat the fact, and he had to watch his tongue not to tell her they could meet in the Fade while she was away. In the terrible ideas he could suggest, that was a high-ranked one.

Nonetheless, he did not settle with himself on another matter that had been troubling him, and having her away should help. He needed to decide what to do of the different information he had gathered about her among the past months. He had spied on her dreams, sent an agent after her, then investigated on her past and now, he did not know what to do with that. Not with the information themselves, weaponizing them would not cross his mind, not anymore. But he could not admit her what he knew, how he knew, and yet, he could not bring himself not to. It felt wrong. The vision of the very first time he spied on her could not be drive away from his thoughts, indescribable rage grasping at him each time. And sadness. How blatantly he remembered feeling something break in her in this memory. He wanted to know more, but he already talked himself out of more spying. If he ever was to know, he wanted to hear it from her. Thing that she would never do if she learnt how much he had trespassed. Her trust was hard-won, he could not break it like this.

He sighed. He will wait for the time to be right and kept this too for himself in the meantime. More omissions to add to his long list.

* * *

Mahariel opened her eyes in the Fade. She felt an immense relief to the indistinct surrounding. The nightmares came and go, apparently it was a night without. She looked around, trying to figure out what place the Fade was trying to shape. It seemed like a tower…Circular at least. She narrowed her eyes to look at the wall which were the color of fire. Her focus managed to elaborate the details of mosaics. Elvhen? Maybe, but not in the colors she was to expect…

"I knew we shall meet again." Mahariel started at the eerie voice and turned quickly, a hand on the hilt of a dagger. She paused at the glowing red form. She tilted her head, her features relaxing.

"Command. Happy to see you found your way back safely."

The spirit nodded sovereignly and seemed to consider the elf – for what Mahariel could say of the facial expression of something without face. Command finally shaped. A tall elf with long blond hair appeared in front of her. The large eyes of the woman were amber gold, with golden make-up. She was wearing a crystal crown and a fluid dress whose fabric seemed made of crystal too. Her chin high, she gave Mahariel a smug smile.

"Better?" The elf chuckled slightly, looking at the beautiful woman from head to toe. An elvhen queen in all the magnificence she could imagine. She suspected the spirit had taken the idea from her own expectation of what could look like a spirit of Command. She nodded.

"Indeed. You indulge me, Messere. To what do I do the pleasure?"

The blond elf gestured toward a corner of the room where stood stairs. Mahariel hesitated barely a second. She was not familiar with hanging out with spirits, but, why not? After all, she knew this one and it was no demon. The woman guided her down the stairs, their surroundings becoming clearer with each step. Once they were downstairs, they emerged on some battlements. They seemed good as new, the grey stone slightly shining, silver vines crawling in such perfect pattern on the rock Mahariel was sure it was merely decorative. Her eyes turned to the courtyard and she stopped breathing. A glass fountain was standing in the middle of a garden, rich with trees and flowers of all color. Silver slab were tracing a path around the fountain, the branches of the trees making perfect-shape arch in an incredible easiness and natural way. Her hand brushed the guardrail as she made her way into the dream-like courtyard. Glass statues were here and there, in a playful hide-and-seek disposition. The rock was tingling with magic, warm, familiar, under her hand. Command was behind her, letting her take in the surreal place. Her hand brushed some mosaic on a wall, made of gold and green. She finally turned to Command.

"Is it your domain? This is magnificent." Whispered she, breathless.

Command seemed amused by the question and did not answer right away, letting the elf explore the garden. She did not dare more than graze the things, as if it was about to break. She started when the voice arose behind her.

"I accept the second part of your statement. For the first, I shall not claim any property of a place someone else commands." Mahariel turned to her, examining her features with interest. The way she declared it…Something was obviously implied but what? She looked around, trying to get over every single detail. Information suddenly hit home.

"We are still in Skyhold." Command smiled and looked around appreciatively.

"We do have something in common, you and I. Your place of command is worthy of you, Inquisitor."

Mahariel took some time to process but instinctively nodded her thanks. She bit her bottom lip, thoughtful with the oddest of the hunch, a tight knot in her belly. If it was Shyhold…Nothing was human here…Could it be…

"It is." Confirmed the spirit, not needing the question to be voiced.

"This is not Skyhold…This is Tarasyl'an Te'las…We are in Elvhenan." She spoke so low, out of voice, she was not sure the spirit heard her. Not that it needed to. After another astonished silence, she let out a breath she did not know she was holding and asked "Did you see this? Did you shape the Fade?" Command smirked again.

"I shaped it, but I did not see it in Elvhenan. Those in command always needs those who advise." Mahariel tilted her head, trying to break the cryptic. She gave up with impatience.

"What does this mean?"

"The mechanisms do not change, the faces do. And sometimes they do not." Mahariel raised an eyebrow.

"What are you trying to tell me?" Command smiled almost motherly.

"I am not trying anything, Inquisitor. I was merely wondering how it is that this place is fated to some spirits." She chuckled and added aside " _Is it fate or chance, I can never decide_.I shall visit you sometimes my friend _…"_  She shook her head and turned back to Mahariel, manifestly amused by something else about this friend. "You hurt the ones you loved the most, and became what you hate in order to save what you love." The elf was absolutely at lost with her words, appearing nothing like coherent. Still, she frowned a bit.

"Are you speaking about me?"

"Would it be this easy? The one who command and the one who advise, but which one is who?" Mahariel pinched her nose, trying to put the cryptic pieces together.

"You won't be straightforward, will you?" Command smirked.

"You said it, Inquisitor, the Game never ends." She paused and looked almost apologetic. "You did something I appreciate, while you did not owe me. But I cannot be straightforward on it. Even if I wanted, more powerful won't let me. With such mark on your hand, no word is private for you here. They don't listen, but they hear." Mahariel's eyes widened with concern.

"Is there any danger for you in speaking to me?"

"Depends on what I say. He has many ears who won't let me finish the sentence if I began it."

"He? Who?" Mahariel paused, rolling her eyes to herself. "No, of course, a name will typically drive attention." Command nodded.

"I'm sorry, Inquisitor. Friend or foe, I cannot say, truth is tricky and more than one exists. I only consider I owed you a warning. A favor for a favor."

Mahariel suppressed a sigh and nodded. She looked around once more, but with another purpose. Certainly, the place was somehow an unsaid clue. Even if she could not think of something right now. She was no dreamer, not until recently…Maybe Command was trying to indicate her she should look for a memory here? Still, if it was the Ancient Time, she hardly saw how it could affect her now…Or did Corypheus came here? He was apparently one of the Magister who entered the Black City, or claimed to be. But… _Friend or foe…_ No, no way. There was no questioning on which side Corypheus was. She frowned, thoughtful, as she walked around. Cole? He was a spirit; a spirit could be that old…But it does not make more sense. First, Solas had stated he was a young spirit. She doubted Elvhenan old could be consider young. And he was a spirit of Compassion. Its purpose was likely the clearest a purpose could be.

She entered the main hall and froze as eerie voices resounded, yelling in an elvhen she could not understand. The whole thing was messy, three or four ghostly voices melting in a row. One of them nothing but roared, silencing the other.

"Penshra! Ea Elvhen, Geldauran!" Another arose in a sick laughter.

"Dea."

The shadows vanished, letting Mahariel stunned, trying to figure if she heard and understood correctly. She doubted it. The voices were indistinct, aloof, without any kind of particular timber in them. But if she had…No, it could not. No way one of these shadows was called Geldauran. The only thought of it was making her sick and dread. Dalish mythology and superstition were far in her mind, her vision of it had changed a lot since the blinded trust of a da'len in these assessed tales but…She could only shiver at such name. Such name should not even been said. She swallowed, only now realizing her hands were shaking.

"What was that?!"

"A piece of what happened here. The argument must have had consequences for its memory to manifest like this."

"Did…"  _Damn I cannot ask that. I sound crazy and I definitely cannot say that name here, considering the fucking beacon I am._ Command looked at her with a scowl and pointed out.

"I cannot tell you if you don't let me hear." Mahariel frowned too. Why could it not hear? She was definitely tensed tight now, maybe she was blocking Command out? She nodded and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the grim features of Command and her meaningful eyes.

"You are wise not to pronounce it here."

Was it…Fear which tainted its voice? Was it afraid of the Forgotten Ones? Her eyes widened at the thought. If it was, it meant they existed. Not that she was that much astounded,  _she_  believed they existed, or she would not be afraid of their names. She just did not really believe in the meaning of the word god. It seemed…Empty. A word used to speak of a powerful being they did not quite understand. Command seemed to be waiting for her to pull it together. Mahariel took another deep breath.

"So?"

Command gave her a single nod. She swallowed hard again but did not add a word.  _Okay…Okay…So, I just heard a forgotten one laughing…Oh creators, this is madness._

"Command, did it had anything to do with what you want to say?" Command seemed thoughtful before answering shortly.

"Somehow." The spirit suddenly straightened. She looked around with a frown. "Inquisitor, we have to leave for now. You have things to attend to." Mahariel looked at it with disbelief.

"You cannot stop there! I have too many questions!"

"Questions I cannot answer. We shall meet again, I will help you as I can." Its face grew dark and almost threatening. "Do not mention this to anyone."

"What? But wh – "

"Anyone, Inquisitor." Mahariel stared at it a handful of second before snorting.

"Here was the command." Command frowned.

"Inquisitor." Mahariel sighed.

"Of course, Command. Thank you for…Whatever you are doing. I appreciate it."  _Even if it does not help much._  Command nodded and patted her shoulder in a reassuring way.

"You are a true Leader. You will understand. Believe me. Now,  _wake up_."

* * *

It took them two weeks to reach the Western Approach. The whole area was a mess. Darkspawn, bandits, beasts, venatori, it had everything. And an awful weather. Mahariel thought that they were more likely to die from the sun than from the fights. Hawke and Stroud were sometimes with them, sometimes they were working on their lead by themselves.

They ran into another dragon during this trip, for the greatest pleasure of both Hawke and Mahariel. The Inquisitor thought she should took a look in the undercroft; with what they salvaged of the two beasts, they should be able to do some pretty good stuffs.

Vivienne, Mahariel, Cassandra and Varric were walking in the endless sand. Mahariel was few steps forward, looking for a lead on the darkspawn assaulting the Griffon Keep that they had reclaimed few days before.

Vivienne joined her side, quickening her own pace. The inquisitor looked at her suspiciously as she took her arm under hers.

"I thought we agreed to keep the lessons for the evening." Madame de Fer let a smug laughter out.

"Do not worry dear, you made that clear when you rushed to darkspawns to avoid my speech yesterday. I had another subject in mind."

"Help yourself."

"Wonderful dear! So, I heard the most insane whispers lately. I intended to ignore them but..." And dramatic pause.  _Let me guess, you wonder if the Dalish sacrifice babies? Creators I need something to slaughter if this is it._ "…Is this my imagination, dear, or have certain lingering looks passed between you and our Solas?" Mahariel stumbled and nothing but spat her answer.

"Lingering what?!"  _I hardly spoke to the man in months, save it doing anything like that! Well, I may have nod him greetings once or twice in the main hall but – No lingering whatever. Where did she –_ she mumbled "I'm gonna kill this dwarf…" Vivienne sighed deeply of relief.

"Oh, thank the Maker dear, there stories of secret messages got me worried!"  _Note for later, killing Dorian too._ "Surely you can find better than this filthy apostate!" The obvious disgust in her tone made Mahariel's thoughts take another direction. She stopped her steps right away, voice and eyes colder than an icicle.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know what I mean, darling." Her hand waved the topic away but Mahariel was not done. A sentence crossed finally her lips – truth be told, pretty lamely.

"He is not filthy."

"If you say so, dear. Better not making sure of it by staying too close." Mahariel looked at her with disbelief. She finally smirked wickedly, decided to put the Enchantress back in her place.

"Staying too close like sharing his cot? Been there, done that. So, no, not filthy." Vivienne obviously did not get her point.

"Oh, poor thing! I never thought of your travel to Skyhold with  _him_! With the cold of the nights in the mountains…Must have been terrible! Do not worry, no one will learn about it from me."  _Fen'harel halani em! Fenedhis asha, you are impossible!_ Bitter and angry, she smirked and mimicked her.

"Oh darling, this is so cute! You  _do_ think it was because of the cold." Vivienne went livid.

"Maker, so it  _is_ true!" Mahariel managed to keep a bit of composure on the outside, even if she wanted to slap herself. She tried to ignore the burning skin of her pointed ears which likely just turned crimson. She crossed her arms and answered dryly.

"I did not say that." Vivienne looked at her embarrassment almost motherly.

"Oh darling, you would not put such heart in defending him if it was not. But once more, no one will learn it from me."

She remained silent, the curses in her head addressed to both the Orlesian and herself overwhelming her mind.  _Any word will make it worst at this point._  She was begging the red colors to leave but her cheeks were on fire. Before she could say or do anything, Varric jumped between them with a wink.

"Considering Grey has turned red, I bet someone brought up Chuckles!"

"OH LOOK! VENATORI AHEAD!"  _Creators bless those damn vints…Before I behead them, naturally_. She ran towards her happily spotted foes and ignored Varric's loud laughter resounding in the valley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geldauran – one of the Forgotten Ones.  
> Penshra! Ea Elvhen – Enough! They are of the People  
> Dea – Not anymore (literally, they were)  
> Fen’harel halani em – Dread Wolf help me  
> Fenedhis asha – Dammit woman


	24. Tavern Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading little birds, hope you enjoy! Let's have a merry band of misfits getting drunk, shall we? Perhaps it will have interesting side-effects ;) Additional translations in the end notes.

 

* * *

After two full weeks in the Western Approach, they ventured back to Skyhold. With their actions there, a lot of eyes were now on them and a raven informed them they had finally been invited to the Winter Palace. And not by anyone. By the Grand Duke Gaspard de Châlons. They had their way in. They had preparations to make, now more than ever. When they reached Skyhold, they had been gone for a month and a half.

Mahariel had a lot to think about. Celene, Gaspard, Briala. Protecting the Empress or upsetting the balance of powers…Three potential allies with their own strengths and weaknesses. More than that, she had both the Inquisitor and the Banal'ras arguing. Briala was her ally. She had been for years. She could not and shall not betray her. Yet, the city elf was not as discreet as she used to be. She had a target on her, one the Inquisitor could not ignore. She had been careless, and Mahariel needed to figure a way around this issue, without the Inquisition appearing too much biased. That would not serve the elven cause.

However, she decided that the reports could wait few days. The situation was not going to solve itself in one afternoon, and she wanted to check with her inner circle, considering she had barely been in Skyhold in the last three months.

Cassandra required her assistance to look for her fellow seekers. Caer Oswin was not that far. They could find time to venture and come back in a week with the right mounts. They needed to wait for Stroud to come back from his investigations to progress with the Grey Warden situation anyway.

Sera asked her for troops, but only to march through Verchiel…Well simple enough, Cullen will take care of that.

She gave some Grey Warden stuffs she found in the Western Approach to Blackwall who seemed happy with her discoveries.

However, she was a bit worried about Varric. Even if they kept destroying red lyrium, it did not seem to put his guilt at ease.

Hawke…Well Hawke was Hawke. No matter how it began, the both of them always ended up laughing loudly around a tankard and it was good. She really bounded with the Champion, for the greatest pleasure of their dear dwarf who eventually joined them in discussions and laughter at some point.

At least, Cole was easy to make happy. Even if he was not here, he knew the good deeds she made on the road and was satisfied that she helped.

She played chests with the commander and – oh miracle! - Talked with him about something which was  _not_ inquisition-related. It was good to see the man take a break.

Dorian seemed as self-satisfied as always. They discussed magic a bit but the conversation soon turned to gossip. Leliana even joined them at some point. The man knew how to spend a good time and they were always laughing. The spymaster had always the best-kept secrets and a bunch of stories, about the Blight, about her time as a bard and as the Left Hand. It was nice to see her laugh. Mahariel could tell she was still way more upset about the Conclave than she was letting see.

She had a quick more formal chat with Vivienne but, considering she spent the last month and a half with the Lady, there was not as much catching up to do.

She tried a less formal talk with Josephine but it eventually failed gloriously.

She crossed path with Solas. Despite her best effort not to think of the apostate, she gave him a lot of thoughts during her time away. Again. She had finally half admitted to herself it was no casual flirt. But she did not know if  _he_ knew it or - more important - felt it. The man was careful with his words, she had a hard time believing he would call her  _vhenan_ if there was nothing…The way their magic reacted around each clearly did not suggest there was nothing…But then, why did he always back off – or was she the one to back off? And why did it bother her, didn't she want him to back off?  _Evanuris ghilana em, hell no, I don't want him to. But I'm a damn coward afraid of what happens if he does not. Great, now I'm a coward…But if I stop being a coward I… - ARRRH_  FENEDHIS - _You do realize there is a talk to have you idiot? Or at least something to do, or…Oh crap._

She spent some time with Bull and the Chargers in the early afternoon and the Qunari offered her to come back to the Tavern on the evening with the others.

She did as suggested and joined Hawke, Varric, Dorian, Bull and Sera. Barely arrived, she bottomed three tankards in a row - after discussing Orlesian fashion with Vivienne and Josephine, she needed more than one. And there were some thoughts she wanted to drown under alcohol. Varric teased.

"Calm down, Grey! What would they say if the great Herald ended up puking in a corner?" She smirked.

"Holy water?" Cheery laughter resounded.

"Nice said Ariel! Varric let her be, we just know a white-haired elf cannot be talk out of drinking!" Hawke intervened. A mischievous sparkle jumped in her eyes. "Speaking of which, I just  _need_  to find you Agreggio, Ariel, I bet you'll love it!" Mahariel raised an eyebrow, amused. She knew perfectly this wine and she did like it, but what exactly –

"I would be careful Grey, if she goes down this path, she will soon jump on you too!" Hawke put a hand on her heart with a fake offended face.

"Me? But I am the embodiment of innocence, how dare you, dwarf!"

"And that's why you hungrily licked your lips thinking of this elf of yours." Pointed out Dorian with a knowing smile.

"Sparkler is right, Elie, you are dribbling!" They all turned to the dwarf questioningly.

"Elie?" Varric beamed with excitation.

"NO! None of you know the glorious full name of the Champion?! True enough, I never wrote it down, I was too afraid she would kill me! Maker, you don't know the troubles I went through to learn it, but totally worth it!" He smirked evilly at Hawke who was already standing, decided to put a hand on his mouth.

"Don't even think of it, dwarf!" But he stood too and they began a ridiculous pursuit around the table.

"I introduce you the Champion of Kirkwall, Lady –"

"OH LOOK VENATORIS - Dammit your line does not work out of context, Ariel!"

"Elanor Iris Avina Hawke!" The group literally spat their drink. She sighed and mumbled.

"Someone thought far too long about my name…"

"NO!"

"That's a hell of a name!"

"I WILL TURN INTO A DRAGON AND EAT YOU, DWARF!"

"C'mon 'tis not that bad…Elie is cute…Oh or Ivy?"

"Don't you dare! Arrrh you know what, I grant Elie but the first who tells anyone my full name –"

"Let me guess, dragon and eat? Duly noted, Firebreath." Interrupted the herald. Hawke's eyes widened and she spun to Varric, resuming her chase.

"See, everyone can think of a nickname for me except you!"

"Not that again…I gave you a nickname!" Hawke paused dramatically, a hand on her heart and fake sobbed.

"And then you took it back to give it to someone else."

"C'mon ladies, less talk more booze!" Bull's voice resounded. "Boss is the skinniest of you all and she is the only one to keep up!" Mahariel growled.

"I killed a dragon, I won't be defeated by a bottle."

"We killed two dragons." corrected Hawke. They smiled knowingly and hit a high-five. Hawke took back her seat next to Mahariel and Varric his, face to her.

"AHAH nice said Boss! Taarsidath-an halsaam!" She growled again with a wince.

"I seriously wish I did not understand Qunlat sometimes." They laughed once more. She spun dramatically to Varric. "So you gave  _her_  nickname to someone else? How dare you!" He smirked,  _that is going to be fun_.

"What can I say, he deserved it more than her." Hawke looked at him fake offended and he winked.  _Awww right, HE has my nickname._ She turned with puppy eyes to Mahariel.

"You heard him, he likes him more than me."

"Awww. See what you do Varric! This is a shame, who stole your nickname, sweetheart? I am going to kick his stupid ass." Hawke and Varric tried to contain their laughter.  _Bet he would like it._

"No, but Varric is probably right, after all, he is taller than me and –"

"So, I will put him on his knees, what else?"  _Maker this is too good._ She had a hard time not bursting into laughter.

"He…is more gifted with words than I."

"He will be backed into a corner." Dorian leaned towards Varric questioningly and kept his voice low.

"Can I ask what Hawke is doing?" Varric managed to whisper back.

"You'll see Sparkler, but believe me, this is going to be good."

"He has confidence." Mahariel laughed evilly.

"I am the Inquisitor, I can make him beg and kiss my ass. Not as much pride after that." Varric turned crimson as he held on his laughter. He finally intervened.

"So, you back him into a corner, you put him on his knees, you make him beg and kiss your ass. Then…?"

"I don't know, thoughts?" She was obviously the only one not noticing where this little list was going and, even if they were not yet sure why, the others proposed suggestively.

"You can pour something on him!"

"Lick the sweat off of you after a hard day of work!"

"…Put him on hard work so his skin grows horny!"

"yeah, niiice. Make it hard and horny, Boss!" Hawke was as red as Varric as Mahariel nodded, considering the ideas. Elie resumed.

"back him into a corner, put him on his knees, make it hard and horny, make him beg, pour something, lick you and kiss your ass. Sounds good to you?"

"Hell yeah, he does not know what is awaiting him."  _Hell, you're right._  They looked at her with mirth. Dorian, eager for the fall of this masquerade, asked.

"Care to know who we are talking about?" His head spun to Hawke and Varric.

"Yeah, who stole your nickname?" Asked Sera. Hawke could not take it anymore, the laughter burst as she said.

"My nickname was Chuckles." Mahariel spat her ale once again. Dorian, hilarious, repeated the whole thing.

"back him into a corner, put him on his knees, make it hard and horny, make him beg, pour something, lick you and kiss your ass…Busy session it is." She went through every shade of red imaginable as she finally realized what she had been saying.

"Oh creators…" She said lamely.

"No, elven glory!" Corrected Sera. "Time to find the man, innit?" Mahariel eyes widened with horror. They were not actually going to repeat this?! Hawke laughed and tapped her shoulder.

"Do not worry, Ariel, none of us would dare take  _this_ out of context."

* * *

They remained there for a long time, going merrier and merrier as the alcohol did its job. Dorian, Sera and Varric had slowed down after shots of Antivan liquor while Hawke, Mahariel and Bull were still on. When Hawke finally stepped back, Bull crashed proudly his fist on the table, making it shacking.

"Ah you may have elven ears but this is a qunari liver, Boss! C'mon you deserve a reward, Basalit-an!"

Mahariel, as buzzed as she was, did not question. She stumbled as she stood. Hopefully, Dorian came to her rescue. They all followed Bull outside. The Qunari extracted a package from a barrel and knocked it to her. She frowned slightly, trying to read the note on it. Her eyes finally widened.

"Where did you get this?!" He winked.

"Ben-Hassrath cache."

"What is it?" asked Dorian.

"This is…From a friend." Answered simply Mahariel, reading Isskari's note. Bull tapped her shoulder.

"Put it on, basalit-an!" She looked at the fabric, eyes narrowed, head moving without her consent. Hawke chuckled.

"I think she might need help. Sera –" She spotted the sudden mischief in the elf's eyes. "Okay maybe not. Dorian, come!"

Sera protested with a pout before laughing cheerily as the others. The antaam-saar was harder to put on than they thought. They succeeded after several attempts. It was the same model she used to wear, with the same color. Except that now, she had no warpaint on. Hawke commented.

"Wow, that's a nice ink in your back!" Mahariel grunted.

"Not hearing  _this_  story tonight." Hawke smirked.

"Let me guess, not proud of this one?"

"Depends of when you ask." Mahariel answered, forcing a smile on her face. Hawke appraised a little longer the black lines. They were definitely of elven style but the pattern did not ring any bell. She had some memories of Merrill explaining the different vallaslin and symbols and yet…The lines were doing something different, unknown. On the bottom part of the tatoo, there were three crossing lines framed by curving ones, kind of reminding of a canine head. Hawke did not insist and shrugged, too drunk to keep her focus. Dorian asked.

"Why would someone send you this?" Mahariel shrugged.

"Must have heard of Haven. 'Tis Qunari way of saying  _happy to know you are alive_. Anyway, happy to have one of these again!" Hawke raised an eyebrow.

"Having Qunari friends?"

"Have friends everywhere, Champion."

They made their way back to the others. Bull raised his tankard with a wink.

"That's a light armor as I like! Taarsidath-an halsaam!" He said once more, leading to a deadly glance of Mahariel…which soon turned into a laughter. Well, being drunk, all that. Sera looked at her with startled eyes. She had seen her wearing that in Haven but did not realize it was a Qunari light armor.

"Your women are really dressed like  _that_?"

"Think of moving to Par Vollen, Buttercup?" teased Varric. She laughed.

"Would be worth it, innit?" Mischief popped in her eyes and she giggled evilly. "We got to show  _this_ to elven glory! I bet he missed this armor! Finally, a way to shut him up, this is going to be priceless!" It took more time than expected for Mahariel to understand who she was talking about. Her eyes widened.

"NO! No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

"That's it,  _eight_  no? She  _is_  drunk, I was expected twice that." Dorian teased with a smirk. They all burst into laughter, Mahariel included, before she resumed.

"I'm not joking! Not happening!"  _I'm drunk, no way I see HIM now, antaam-saar or not._

"Cutie, you think you can prevent us from doing it? In your current condition?" joked Dorian. Considering she could barely stood, and her head was spinning, he had a point.

"I can still kill you tomorrow!"

"Sounds worth it to me!" Declared Varric. They began to come closer, grinning evilly.  _Crap…Oh yay, magic!_  She tried to send a wave of energy to push them away. She ended up falling heavily on her butt. She grunted.

"Okay, drunk magic, bad idea." A voice suddenly resounded.

"What the hell is – Inquisitor?!" The incomer's eyes widened as she raised an eyebrow of disbelief. Six heads spun towards her.

"Cassie! Help me, I'm surrounded!" The second eyebrow joined the first one.

" _Cassie_? Maker, how much did she dri –"

She interrupted herself and considered the armor with rolling eyes. They really thought being rid of this was one of the rare good point of Haven. Josephine was not going to be happy with the Inquisitor being back to wearing such outfiy.

"ANTAAAAAAAM-SAAAAAAR!" A very merry Qunari growled loudly.

"Maker's breath, are you all drunk?! Do you even realize this is the middle of the night?!"

Six heads spun to look at the sky and soon laughs resounded again.  _That answers both questions._  Sera helped Mahariel up as the seeker sighed. Their row had very likely woken up half of Skyhold. If anyone out of the inner circle was to see the Inquisitor like this…Josephine was going to kill them all. The group apparently found a new source of interest and raised their mugs, laughing and chatting – more like babbling actually – loudly. She saw a discreet shadow coming towards them.

Solas crossed a moon radius and took advantage of the light to invite the Seeker to remain quiet about his presence. She conformed, considering she had herself no plan to put an end to this. When he was close enough, he waved his hand. They fall asleep on the ground. All except for Mahariel, Dorian and Hawke, their magic and spiritual resistance apparently still somehow efficient.

He had actually sneak up that close in order to catch Mahariel before she crashed on the ground. So, when she turned back in a jump, she found herself awkwardly close to him. Or at least, what her sober-self would consider awkwardly close. Her drunk-self seemed quite comfortable with it. The reflex of turning back that quickly was ill-considered in her current state and she staggered horribly. He stabilized her gently, hands catching her waist. He focused on her face, preventing as much as he was able his eyes to linger or his mind to think of her bare skin under his fingers. He did not examine the inks taking her whole back while he made his way closer, forcing himself to focus his attention elsewhere. Kind of stabilized, she giggled with a fake chastising tone.

"Do not sneak on me, lethallin!" She turned to Dorian and Hawke. "Sober mage O, drunk mages 1!" They welcomed the score with happy screams and high-fives. They all instantly stumbled afterwards. Cassandra rolled her eyes and caught Dorian with one hand, Hawke with the other before they fall. Solas stabilize Mahariel once more, in a gentler way than the seeker.

"At least, there are only three left…Can you put them to bed while I deal with the others, Solas?" He was about to nod but Hawke intervened, convinced to be way fresher than the rest of them.

"Don't worry Cassie, I have a way to quicken it!"

 _This is not becoming a thing_. Cassandra was about to protest but the Champion raised her hand with the intent to lift a sleepy Varric from the ground. Instead, a fireball went towards Mahariel and Solas. She nothing but fell in his arms – or he drew her in, he wasn't sure – to avoid it. They could have think she did it on purpose if she did not freeze the ground under Cassandra and her at the very same time. They both fell heavily.

"Oops..." It took all of Cassandra's self-control not to rip her head off. She shouted angrily.

"NO DRUNK MAGIC CHAMPION! AND IT APPLIES TO YOU TWO AS WELL!"

Mahariel huddled against his chest. Solas felt her warm breath and tremors as she laughed. Her arms were around his neck, his around her bare waist. He tried to keep his mind out of their current closeness. He nodded to Cassandra before looking down at her face. He whispered.

"I cannot move if you stay here, lethallan." She looked up with an enamored glance and whispered back.

"Ar tel'nuvenan vara, vhenan."

His heart skipped a beat and the pace grew suddenly quicker and louder.  _She is drunk. She does not know what she is saying_. But she did. And even without an answer right away, the pace of his heart was enough. She smiled genuinely and leaned even deeper in his chest.

"Teltas em, vhenan." He finally declared in a low voice.

He pulled her away gently, relieved to see Cassandra was busy to yell at Dorian and Hawke, laughing for whatever reason. None of them witnessed the scene. He cleared his throat and asked Hawke and Dorian to follow him. Eventually, the seeker just knocked them out with Bull's tankard, grunting of irritation. They would end up with a hell of a bump but she didn't care. Hopefully – if they could think so – the inquisitor was the drunkest of them all and she didn't need such resort. She was already half-asleep on Solas.

"Just take care of her. The inquisitor cannot be seen like that. If you don't mind, go grab me Cullen on your way. I could use a hand."

Solas nodded. He looked at Mahariel and decided not to wake her. He took her in his arms and carried her. She was ridiculously cute, buried as she was in his chest. He stopped by Cullen's office and knocked. The commander was obviously awake since he opened instantly. His eyes widened and he looked at the Inquisitor with concern. Solas reassured him.

"She is fine even if an unpleasant hangover is to be expected. I am sorry to bother you this late, Commander. The Seeker requires your help to –"

"Take care of the corpses, I bet."

"This is one way to put it."

"I expected as much when the laughs stopped abruptly." After a second he resumed. "Do you need help before I go?" The elf's eyes answered him with perplexity as he raised an eyebrow. He took the hint and babbled. "No, right, of course you can carry her by yourself, you did it after Haven, silly question. I…Will be going then, before Cassandra makes literal corpses of them. Thank you, Solas."

At this hour and despite the row that had been going on, no one was in the main hall. Still, he walked quickly to reach the door of her quarters, afraid a noble would pop up. He went upstairs and put her in bed. He looked at her peaceful face with awe. She was so beautiful…This wonderful woman called him  _vhenan_. Even if she was damn drunk, he could not help but think about the word, the way she embraced him. She would never have done it sober, but did that mean it wasn't sincere? He instinctively cleared her forehead from a rebel strand. She caught his hand gently before it left her cheek.  _Hum, not so asleep obviously_. She spoke in a low voice, eyes half close.

"So, if I recall, you escaped the backfire of a talk. Time to make it up." He frowned slightly, not understanding at all what she was saying, but smiled.

"What do you mean, lethallan?"

"You asked about my vallaslin before I left. An answer for an answer, remember? Your turn. Tell me more about yourself."

"I would be happy to oblige on another day, lethallan. Right now, you need to rest." He was stroking her cheek.

"I thought you were my humble servant?" She teased with feigned disapproval. He chuckled. Well, she wanted to talk and needed to rest…Not as incompatible as one may think.  _And there, her mind will be clear_. He smirked, mischief in his eyes.

"Ma nuvenin, Lady Inquisitor. We shall speak before the morning, you have my word." He waved his hand over her head. Her magic resisted once again, but not so efficiency. She still found time to whisper before falling asleep.

"You won't be staying here, am I wrong?" She was already sleeping when he replied with a sad smile.

"I shall not, indeed." He reluctantly took his hand back. He kissed tenderly the top of her head and stood up, heading downstairs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Qunlat) Taarsidath-an halsaam – I will pleasure myself later thinking about it with great respect
> 
> Evanuris ghilana em – Creators guide me
> 
> Ar tel'nuvenan vara – I don't want to leave (the embrace)
> 
> Teltas em – Me neither


	25. Fade Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Well, you know what is coming, aye? Perhaps a real small NSFW warning here.

* * *

 

She opened her eyes in Haven. The town was as she remembered before Corypheus. But there was no one.  _Weird, where is everyone?_  Her mind was alcohol-free, still she couldn't figure how she arrived there. The wind wasn't half as cold as it used to. Still, she could feel it on her shoulders…Surprised, she looked down at her outfit. She startled a bit.  _Hum, happy to have this back, but how did I get this back?_  She heard a well-known chuckle. She looked up to see Solas, obviously amused by her skeptical examination of her armor. He declared.

"For what it is worth, it still suits you remarkably." She growled.

"Maybe but it doesn't explain how I ended up in it."

"That is a mystery for another day." As if his previous words just reached her ears, she grinned playfully.

"Suit me remarkably, hum? Still don't want one, lethallin?"

"I shall decline once more. I cannot compete." He smirked, teasing her with his sight. He was certainly in a good mood, not that she had the slightest hint as to why. She giggled before her curiosity flashed back. She walked to his side.

"What are we doing in Haven, Solas?"

"Haven is familiar. It will always be important to you." She stopped a sec and grunted.

"Let's not come back on it." He remained silent and walked her through the Chantry to the cells.  _Her_  old cell. Where she first woke up. Damn Cassandra really despised her back then. Everyone did. Well, not that they did not have reasons to. She  _was_  the ideal and obvious guilty party.

"I sat beside you while you slept, studying the Anchor."

"How long can it take to look at a mark on my hand?" He smirked and looked at her.

"A magical mark of unknown origin, tied to a unique Breach in the Veil? Longer than you might think. I ran every test I could imagine, searched the Fade, yet found nothing. Cassandra suspected me of duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn't produce results."

"Cassandra's like that with everyone." He chuckled.

"Yes." He smiled and gave a sign of the head to indicate her to follow. Since they arrived, he had been always leading the way. To avoid looking at her in the antaam-saar, among other things. They went again through the Chantry, heading outside. She was walking quietly, slightly behind him, looking at every wall and stuff in the place. She never thought she would see the town again – never thought there was something left to see actually…Once again, she tried to recall how they got here. She was missing something, something obvious and big, most likely. In front of the Chantry, he resumed.

"You were never going to wake up. How could you, a mortal sent physically through the Fade?" He paused and admitted. "I was frustrated, frightened. The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach. Although, I wished to help. I had no faith in Cassandra…Or she in me. I was ready to flee." She listened to his words carefully. She knew the beginnings with the seeker had not been easy for him either…But she did not think it had gone that far. Not that she should be surprised, she did consider fleeing at some point too. But reality caught up with her. That's why she raised an eyebrow.

"The Breach threatened the whole world. Where did you plan to go?" He smiled at her answer.

"Someplace far away where I might research a way to repair the Breach before its effects reached me. I never said it was a good plan." Pointed he out with a small laughter. He moved away from her, looking up to the Breach. Her eyes widened.  _Fenedhis, wasn't this damn thing closed?!_

"I told myself: one more attempt to seal the rifts. I tried and failed. No ordinary magic would affect them." He paused again, looking at the torn sky, defeated. "I watched the rifts expand and grow, resigned myself to flee and then…"

The moment he had taken her hand to seal the first rift popped vividly in her head.  _Fashionably late, wasn't I?_ He spun towards her, hope in his voice.

"It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture…" He paused, thoughtful on his next words which came out slower "…And right then, I felt the whole world change."

Her lips parted slightly. First, she remained silent as he stared into her eyes. She was struggling not to let the thought come out. She couldn't, shouldn't…And yet, she somehow had to. Before he turns back. Again. Or before someone barged in. Again. This was enough of this cowardice, she had to confront him, she was no coward! She refused to be one!  _Either you stay a coward or – FENEDHIS YOU SHUT UP, STOP ACTING LIKE A BACKWARD TEENAGER AND PULL IT TOGETHER._ The words finally crossed her lips with a breath she did not know she was holding.

" _Felt the whole world change_?" She repeated slowly. He smiled.

"A figure of speech." She raised an eyebrow of disbelief.  _Of course, go ahead play stupid – or take me for one – whatever_. She suppressed a sigh.

"I'm aware of the metaphor. I'm more interested in  _felt_."

He opened his mouth and closed it. Once. Twice. This was the first time she pointed out that kind of things…She had troubles reading his eyes. A mix of fear, surprise, hope…Love? Apparently, he needed the few  _PULL IT TOGETHER_  seconds as well. She had taken few steps closer as much to prevent him as to prevent herself from bailing this time. He answered slowly, his eyes deep in hers.

"You changed…Everything." She smiled and leaned even closer with a light giggle.

"Sweet talker."

As she leaned closer again, he heard this giggle which made his heart melt each time. He really did not need this. She was…This moment was becoming too much and yet not enough. His thoughts were in a rush, pushing against each other. He wanted her. He had for months. Wanting her physically, he could fight, but he wanted more. He wanted  _her_ , all of her.

He had fought it, but no matter how much he did, it was here and he felt it. He had tried to convince himself  _she_ didn't felt it…It worked more or less. But that was until her  _vhenan_. He knew her too well, even inebriated as she was, it wouldn't have crossed her lips if she didn't mean it. But again, she was drunk, she could have just not remembered. But what about now? Now here they were…She was not drunk – couldn't be – here and yet, she was going down the same path. She was right here and she wanted more. She wanted  _him_. He could feel his heart racing and a sweet warmth taking him.

No, he had to find something, anything. A reason to turn away. But there was no more left…She cared for him as he cared for her. Except that  _he_  did not deserve her to care for him. That was it.  _You cannot do that to her. She doesn't deserve that, you don't deserve her._  He broke the stare and looked back at the sky. This was the only way. In order not to hurt her, he had to offend her now so she would step back, no matter how hard it was.

When he broke the stare as their face were so close, she forced herself not to shout a curse.  _Seriously?! You are going to bail?! Again?! I begin to wonder which one is the backward teenager…FENEDHIS LASA!_ Frustrated, she almost stepped back. At the last second, her body refused. And it was right to.  _DAMMIT you know what?! Go to hell, this is ridiculous, WE are ridiculous. No wonder all of Skyhold is teasing us, we are acting like children!_ She was going to speak and confront him but the words did not come out.  _Great, we are ridiculous AND my mouth is a coward. Fine, there are other way for this to be settled._

He felt her fingers gently pulling his face back towards her. She raised herself on tip-toe to reach his lips. Slightly, shyly even, she pressed hers against. Their mouths barely touched for a handful of seconds. She backed off right away, looking down, afraid to meet his surprised gaze.

This was a terrible idea. An awful idea. She could not look at him, too embarrassed.  _He did not kiss me back_. Well, at least she knew what she needed to know…She could go burry her head in the snow now. She began to turn away.

_Too much and yet not enough_. Too much for him to manage going away, not enough to fulfill his desire. He grabbed her hand with a beam and made her spun right back in his arms.

She gasped as their lips met again, this time in the passionate kiss they were both craving. He held her tight in an enamored embrace. She soon opened her mouth to his eager tongue. He explored gently, with care, tasting her mouth with delight. He felt how she melted into his arms, abandoning herself with relief. His tongue grew more devoted. They sighed in each other mouths, their senses relishing in how their magics were mingling more vividly than ever, wrapping them, tingling above their skins.

He parted his lips from hers a second to look at her, the slight blush on her cheek, her most earnest beam, the joy in her pupils. It was the most beautiful face he had seen, and it smiled because of him…

He kissed her again. He tilted her backward so he was all of her support. He shoved a thigh between her legs. Her sound of appreciation lost itself into the twirling of their tongues. Their bodies were pressed against each other, but never close enough for their taste. One hand of his was on her bare back, the other coming regularly to cup her face and stroke the back of her neck. Her arms were around his neck. He pulled her forward. She regained a hint of balance for a sec and then he was almost lifting her.

Her feet left definitely the ground as her legs knotted around his waist. He pressed her slightly against the Chantry's wall, heat filling him. His lips came down her neck and she gasped. As if she couldn't bear the thought of their mouths parted for so long, she cupped his face and brought his lips back to hers.

Her tongue moved to his earlobe, teasing the sensible area. He went back to her neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on every bare-skinned place, letting his tongue and his teeth linger. She moaned and a groan of satisfaction answered her.

Suddenly, he stepped his face aside, breath short.

"We shouldn't." He declared, taking a deep breath at the same time. She giggled.

"The Chantry? Yeah, we could give Cassie a heart attack right now." He chuckled but stayed apart, shaking his head.

"This isn't right, not even here." She raised an eyebrow and looked around.

"What do you mean  _not even here_?"

He grinned. Despite his words, he was still cornering her against the wall, her legs around his waist, which was making it even harder for him to stay focus. He paused and chuckled.

"Well, given your condition when you went to bed, you do have extenuating circumstances." Her eyes widened and he laughed as she finally understood.  _Creators, not a confusion to be proud of as a mage._

"This is not real." He smirked.

"That's a matter of debate…" He paused and looked at her lips with hesitation. At her disappointment, he shook his head, chasing the thought. He resumed before she got the chance to put it right back in his mind "…Probably best discussed after you…WAKE UP."

* * *

She gasped, jumping out of her sleep. She looked around with disbelief. When her eyes leaned on the antaam-saar, she sighed. A _t least, you, you are still here…_ Her head was dizzy. The only thing she had in mind was going downstairs to rush to the rotunda to…Well, not even half-sure to do what actually. Anyway, two facts were working against her: a hell of a hangover and, judging by the height of the sun, she was pretty sure a very annoyed Josie was tapping furiously her foot right behind her door.  _I really need to study this balcony exit…Er, I will probably run into some of Leliana's people…_ Her thoughts came back to Josie.  _Okay you know what? Totally worth the shot._ Determined, she jumped on her feet. And stumbled back on the bed.  _Okay genius, hangover potion first._

_Okay, head's fine. What now?_ She looked at the balcony. Well, she just had to hang herself to the guardrail and reach the battlements…Couldn't be that hard. Just needed the right angle. The door slammed and she forgot any kind of carefulness. She jumped as a yell resounded.

"Darling, Cassandra told me you had quite a night but it is almost noon and –"

She stopped listening to Vivienne's voice, quite busy with her current situation.  _Well, that was stupid…_ She disappeared into stealth. The situation was not much better but at least they could not see her. She really needed to reconsider her definition of a  _good_ idea. There was a good thirty meters between her and the frozen ground.  _I have to move fast, Vivienne will eventually feel my magic…And I have obviously no explanation for THAT_.

_Easy enough_ , she thought as her feet reached the battlements. Her breath was short and she felt disoriented, not sure where she was on the said battlements. She decided to enter a tower on her left. She wasn't paying attention to her steps, looking backward to spot a potential spy. She ran right into Varric and gasped.

"Varric!" He stumbled and looked surprised to the speaking-emptiness face to him. She broke her cloak.

"Dammit, Grey, what are you –"

"Husssh!" She interrupted "Don't ruin my efforts by screaming my presence!"

"Your efforts?"

"Arrrh I sneak out through the balcony to avoid Josie and Vivienne…" Hawke's laughter resounded.

"Seriously?! After the night we had?! My lady Inquisitor, you just earned my deepest respect!" Mahariel smirked.

"When you have Orlesian bullshits to avoid, you always find resources. And a good hangover potion helps."

"And I raise my glass to these wise words!" She did as said and pour a mug to Mahariel. Varric looked at them with an amused gaze.

"And here is our big symbol of faith. No wonder the Chantry doesn't like you."

"Say what you want, we all know you are just jealous because no one sings for you." he laughed.

"Got me there, Grey!" Mahariel reached the mug on the table in a stride and grabbed it with a giggle.

"Speaking of which, bare your ale and raise it high!" Two loud out-of-control laughs filled the room.

"Andraste's tits, it was so bad it was awesome!" managed Hawke in a breath, swiping a tear. Mahariel bottomed up the mug in the mirth. Varric finally commented.

"You are in a damn good mood, Grey. What don't I know?" He waggled suggestively his brows and smirked. She dodged with lightness.

"C'mon Varric, you not hearing a gossip? You don't believe it more than I do!"

"Well, he did miss some things last night." Commented Hawke with a knowing smile before wincing and touching her head. "Speaking of which, I suspect your seeker enjoyed her part a bit too much…" Mahariel grinned.

"Cassandra's like that with everyone." She giggled to herself. "Now if you will excuse me, believe it or not, I didn't jump from this balcony only to drink with you."

She turned back under fake offended protests. She looked around, not feeling like asking these two how to reach the rotunda from here. She decided randomly which door to take and triggered back her cloak. She left without further explanations.

* * *

Saying that Solas had currently mixed feelings would have been the understatement of the era. He knew the woman he was in love with felt something too and for that, a genuine smile and a warmth in his chest kept coming back. He felt happier than he had been in thousands of years…Literally.

At the same time, he was pacing up and down and wanted to drive his fist against the wall – or his head, still on debate.  _Well…THAT happened._ He had lost any kind of self-control.  _Fenedhis, she presses gently her lips against yours and you answer by placing her over a wall and sinking your tongue in her throat, you animal! You have to apologize, if she even looks at you now._ The part where she didn't complain seemed far from his mind.  _This is wrong, so wrong – it doesn't feel wro – YOU. SHUT. UP. There are considerations, you cannot jump into it like you were just a man and she was just a woman! It cannot end well – What if it could? – I…I don't know. No, I can't…_ He jumped as Dorian's voice resounded. He had been mumbling for several minutes.

"Okay elf, I bite, what is happening to you? The whole tower is shaking under your pace!"

He snarled and ignored him. He needed to see Maha –  _the Inquisitor. You need to see the inquisitor and to apologize_. But she wasn't showing up.  _Of course, she is not. She does not want to see you. And she has better things to do._  Suddenly, he felt the magic of the mark nearby. His head spun around. Great, she was at the point where she cloaked herself to avoid him…He shouldn't be surprised. He cleared his throat with all the composure he had left.

"Inquisitor, I want –" He felt a finger stopping his lips. Her warm breath was in his neck as she leaned to his ear and whispered.

"Huuush. Don't let the others know I'm here, Leliana would drag me to the War Room."

His eyes widened at her words but he nodded. Once more, he ignored Dorian's voice, explaining how crazy he sounded. He felt her hand taking his and pulling him towards the stairs leading to the battlements. Once they were in the middle of the stairs, out of sight and ear, she broke her cloak and looked at him with feigned anger.

"You harellan…" He obviously missed the feigned part as he began in a rush.

"Lethallan, I –" Her lips against his stopped him immediately. He gasped but his hands soon found their spot on her waist, feeling her warm skin. Her arms came around his neck in a soft embrace. She stepped back slightly and looked into his eyes with a giggle.

"Debate closed, you were right. Real enough."

The talk he had plan ended up needing few words. He wanted to apologize, to say that the kiss was ill-considered, that he shouldn't have encouraged it…And she swiped everything when she kissed him again. They remained hidden in the stairwell. At some point, he took on himself to broke the kiss reluctantly. His hands cupping her face, he looked deep in her eyes and tried to find his words. He talked slowly, a sad smile on his face.

"Vhenan, I must tell you…It has been a long time and things have always been easier in the Fade. I…I'm not certain  _this_  is the best idea, it could lead to trouble." She listened carefully, giving him his stare back.  _It could lead to trouble…Yes, that's a fact but…_ Her confident smile took her lips. She placed her hand above one of his and replied with a reassuring voice.

"I'm willing to risk it if you are."

"I…Maybe, yes." He finally declared. "If I could take some time to think, there are…Considerations." She nodded.

"Take all the time you need."

"Thank you. I am not often thrown by things that happened in dreams." She smirked.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment." He chuckled.

"You should, vhenan."

_There are considerations_. He was right, indeed. Considering his words, she had in mind to let him alone in order to give him this time to think. But, matter of fact, he was standing in front of her, preventing her from going away. He was close and still cupping her face, staring at her with an almost silly toothless smile.  _Er…Am I to tell him this is not how one takes time to think?_ His glance moved from her eyes to her lips.  _No, not falling for that, this is fake hop –_ She gasped as he reached her mouth again.  _Oh okay…That was quick_. She felt his lips even hotter than before.

He licked slightly her lips, asking for permission. She opened her mouth to him, allowing him to explore once more. They reveled in the smooth sensation of their tongue rubbing against each other. His face stepped back once or twice, only to give her eyes an enamored glance, stroke her cheek, and capture her lips once again.

They moved from the wall and he almost stumbled on a step. They both lost their balance and when he stabilized them, he felt her giggle in his mouth. He smirked against her lips and caught her thighs to put her legs back around his waist.

Their magics were as much on fire as their skins, pressing them even more in their embrace. He sat on the steps with her astride on his laps. Her back arched slightly as his fingers ran on it, pressing her chest even more against his. He grunted with satisfaction, tilting faintly backward to feel more of her body against his. As he moved, she felt the growing arousal against her lower belly and he muttered her moan with a sinful tongue. His face stepped back again, his pupils spreading with lust as he looked hungrily at her. She bit her bottom lip unwillingly. He went down her neck, letting his mouth taste more of her bare skin. She felt the shaped muscles of his thigh under her, his length teasing her crotch. A quiver of pleasure ran through her spine. She felt his hands finding their way under the fabric of the top of the antaam-saar, taking the way of her brea

* * *

They lamely jumped when the door of the rotunda slammed. The voice of the Ambassador resounded.

"Maker, Leliana I give up! Tell me you know where the Inquisitor is!"

"What is it Josie?" Leliana's voice replied from the top of the tower.

"The Inquisitor! She bailed on this morning's lesson through her balcony!" Leliana and Dorian's laughter filled instantly the building. In the stairwell, Solas raised an amused eyebrow as he smirked. She shrugged and muttered a giggle. The Tevinter voice resonated with disbelief.

"Through the balcony? She has to give me the recipe of her hangover potion, it must be amazing!" Josephine replied, way less entertained by the situation.

"Not the point, Dorian!" Mahariel could picture the raising hands of Dorian as he answered with…Something which did not sound totally honest in his voice for whatever reason.

"Fine, fine…Either way, you can witness she is not –" Leliana interrupted him with a note of mischief.

"Wait. Where is Solas?" Dorian, definitely acting weird, tried to chase the thought.

"Oh, the good man seemed quite preoccupied this morning, he might as well be on a clear-minding walk…"  _Wait, what does he means, he might as well? Er, whatever, have to go._  Mahariel jumped on her feet – not without stealing a last kiss. She whispered.

"That's my cue." She was going to trigger back her cloak when she laid her eyes on the elf. She muttered a chuckle and added in a still low voice. "Friendly advice, you may want to…tidy yourself up a bit before going in there." She smirked, obviously proud of her work – and effect – before triggering the stealth and leaving with a quick pace.

"Goldy, Firebreath! Move quickly, your inquisitor needs you!" She slammed the door, raising dramatically a hand. She was welcomed by whistles.  _Hum…Not the expected effect, what – Oh boy._  She realized her hair was incredibly messy, her cheeks were reddened and her outfit was far from straight. Hawke commented, licking her lips.

"One more possessive elf…" Mahariel did not understand right away. Then, she spotted bruises on her shoulder and turned crimson.

"Dammit, Hawke, do everyone a favor and tell Broody to come!" Mahariel composed herself.

"Seriously guys, I need a hand, now. I have to go back to my quarters, half of Skyhold is looking for me under the orders of a very pissed antivan!"

"And that explains that, run into some walls during the chase, Grey?" He teased.  _One could say that._  She shrugged, deciding to play along with this version.

"Guess my hangover potion still need improvements, lost my balance few times."  _Well, this is no lie._  Hawke raised an eyebrow of disbelief and smirked, not believing a word of this. Mahariel waved her incoming comment by resuming. "C'mon Varric, I know you have a grapple!"  _I clearly do not want to go to Sera like this, the teasing will be so worst._  He looked at Hawke with a knowing glance. This was not the end of it. Still they nodded.

"Fine, Grey, but you owe me one!"

She made Hawke climb into her quarters with her. She switched swiftly her outfit for her usual apprentice coat and settled her hair the best she could. When she heard the door, she started with a firm voice.

"We cannot wait endlessly, Champion, tell me you received some news about the Adamant lead? Or from Weisshaupt – Oh, Ambassador!" She put on her most polite smile. "I did not hear you." Josephine mouth was ajar. Y _ou got to be kidding me_.

"You…are  _working_  with the Champion?" She asked, muttering a sigh.

"It certainly looks like it…" Commented Hawke in a chuckle. Mahariel replied in a most professional tone.

"Indeed. I cannot leave Skyhold to investigate the Grey Warden situation myself right now, though it does not mean I'm not concerned." Josephine snarled with a stronger Antivan accent than usual.

"You do have a perfectly professional answer to everything, don't you? Well…" She turned to Hawke "if Lady Hawke can excuse us, we have a fitting which cannot wait any further." Hawke clapped her hand in mockery.

"OOOOH FANCY ORLESIAN CLOTHES! Can I stay? Pleeeeeaaaase." Mahariel pursued her lips, trying not to laugh. Josephine replied bitterly, teeth gritted.

"Sure, why not…"


	26. Thoughts & Crows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

 

* * *

Nothing remarkable happened during the next days. Cassandra was doing some further investigations about the seekers and Mahariel had a lot to deal with. A very big pile of reports, for one. And her own bunch of considerations about Solas.

She could not regret what happened. A part of her wanted to but she just could not feel that way. Though, she kept thinking she should.

Her hand brushed the Crows tattoo on her neck. Dammit, how could she be so stupid? The last time she let herself go into that kind of things, it ended up with the most famous house of assassins of Thedas chasing her. Of course, the situation with Fellsathan had been way different. Her mistake with him had been that he knew too much. Solas did not, not  _yet_ …She shook her head. She hated that he did not, and that was the threat. Maybe professional deformation, but she was always drowning in so much lies, half-truth and omissions…She hated it. She wanted nothing more than to be fully honest with him but –  _Did you even consider that you actually could? You are the Inquisitor; the situation has changed – For now. I am Inquisitor today, what about tomorrow? We are speaking about the worst thing I ever did in my life…I refuse to let things come to this again – It did not have to happen this way. You freaked out and you decided not to trust Fellsathan – Don't come back on that, what's done is done – All I am saying is that it could work if you let it a chance – And what? What of the next time I freak out and have to flee? Am I going to drive a dagger through his heart before? – You do realize the clans contacted the Inquisition? You really think you can keep your secrets longer? What are you going to do when Leliana got it? Kill her too? You need to trust them at some point – I can't – Yes you can, you just refuse to – because it is not safe! – Is it or can't you admit to yourself you might have a home here? – for how long? We both know how this works – Do we? Because right now you just sound like some coward afraid of being happy – I…Maybe, but what if… – Stop with the what if! You cannot know, okay? The point is, they already know who you have been protecting all along, they will know about Analen and Linril without time. Dorian already does, did anything happen? No. So, tell me, who are you trying to protect now if not yourself? You are in love with him. Stop running away – you are saying that as if it was only up to me –_

She cried out in frustration. Fuck, struggling with herself was insufferable task. She shook her head, trying to chase the thoughts. No, she had done the right thing when she kissed him. It had been more than three years since Fellsathan, she needed to stop beating herself down with that. She was in love with Solas, and, for what she could tell, he did appear to return the feeling. She needed to stop with the excuses. What was next was up to him, but what she knew was that  _she_  was not to bail now.

Quite happy with herself, she put her attention back on the reports. Going through the papers she noticed a letter in them. She frowned and opened it. She went through quickly and frowned deeper. Fenedhis. And Leliana missed that, obviously. Well, later with work then.

* * *

Solas was in the rotunda, thoughts running in his head as they had been for the last week. And he was not coming up with anything. For all which was unwise, ill-considered…She had showed wisdom, compassion, sense of duty…Could she…Could she ever understand? If someone could...He would not tell her now, but if he was to get involved in this, he had to consider being able to at some point.  _Fenedhis, in which kind of mess did you let yourself into? You know what has to be done, how can you jeopardize that with_ that _? – It does not have to jeopardize anything. What she said in the Hinterlands…She can understand, I know that – She is willing to give_ him _the benefice of the doubt but you_ did _condemn the People – Do I have to purely ignore my feelings and hers, then? – Could you be any more selfish?! How much do you want to hurt the woman you claim to be in love with?! – I never wanted to hurt her – but you already did. Remember the mark? – There must be a way to save her! – And what about the others? Do you expect her to forgive you for THAT? – I…I have to look for other options. Things have changed, this world is not what I thought it was. This is not right – But_ this _is what must be done – I cannot lose her – But you will – SHUT. UP._

He frowned in front of his panel. He could not think clearly here. Not when he was in the same building as her. He needed to go outside, to find a spot where he could clear his head. It was already late in the evening; the Altus and the Spymaster had left the rotunda. Good, the less questions, the better; he was definitely not in the mood for these.

He headed out of the Grand Hall, wrapped in a cloak. He did not give attention to the similar shape walking few meters in front of him in the courtyard. Likely a servant or a merchant. Not like he really cared for the time being. However, the said figure seemed…jumpy.

After few steps walking in front of him, she dared to turn the slightest to know who was behind. Not a lot, almost nothing. But enough for him to take a glimpse of a white strand going loose. She did not show any kind of surprise or suspicion and simply went on. If she recognized him, she did not let it show. Him, however, his lips parted with surprise and he stopped his steps for a second. What was she…? Probably nothing. Would not be that strange for her to have to sneak out to the tavern after all. But why didn't he feel the mark? He frowned a bit. She eventually figured how to cloak it more efficiently. Not that it was particularly a bad thing, but knowing he could always find her thanks to it had been comforting somehow. He would have to keep an eye on that.

However, he reconsidered his thoughts about the tavern when she disappeared after a corner. Why would she trigger her stealth? He could not help but trying to feel the Anchor around. He could still hear it, but it was not the beacon it had been, a whisper which was making it hard on him. But he could tell one thing: its direction was not the tavern. Or anywhere in Skyhold. It was outside.

* * *

_Fuck, what is he doing here?_ Mahariel wondered before noticing the rogue strand.  _Hopefully he did not see it._ Still, she took the first chance to disappear into stealth and hurry her pace. She could not have anyone following her on this. And following her was something Solas did. Truth be told, knowing it was him behind, she was curious. If she was not on something which could not wait, she would have gladly investigated. But she had no time.

As soon as she was cloaked, she broke into a sprint. Better safe than sorry. A bit of help from a fade step and it was all good. She still did not know how Solas had been able to follow her in Val Royeaux, he had been dodging the question when she brought it up. The only proper explanation she could find was that she had been careless at some point. Or the Anchor. Cloaking it was complicated and she had no clue if it was working. She rushed through the bridge and slowed down once her feet hit snow.

The surroundings of Skyhold were full with tents and barracks. She sneaked into the crowd. A lot of soldiers were still up. She let down her fade-cloak and walked in the shadows, keeping her mana and stamina for later.

She finally turned east when she saw the firsts trees of the forest. Should be in there.

She entered the woods with less precautions considering her discretion. She was to be found. However, she summoned a barrier around her. She winced on the inside. She had become used to someone else drawing it. Hers was so weaker. Commander Elaine and Vivienne taught her how to strengthen it in combat, tapping into her adversary's link to the Fade when hitting them. But without anything to hit nearby, it was just weak. She started at the Antivan accent.

"My old friend."

She leapt instantly, a dagger already in her hand. She had every reason to expect a trap. The Crow held smugly his empty hands – not like blades were not in his sleeves.

"As I said, I want only to talk." The man looked around suspiciously. "Why don't you soundproof us, dear?" She snorted.

"So, the soldiers won't hear me shout? I'll pass, thank you." He rolled his eyes.

"So little trust. I only assumed  _you_  would not want any ears lurking."

"I'll take my chance."

* * *

Solas was out of breath when he found back her track. Finding the Anchor was way harder and was tapping in his mana in a way he did not see coming. She was fast. Faster than him. But he could not slow down, he could feel the track evaporating incredibly fast too.

His fade-cloak was hard to keep and he granted himself some rest with it when he was among the encampment, wandering into the alleys, following discreetly the Anchor. He had to put it back on when she turned for the woods.

He missed a little part of the conversation. He almost stepped in when he heard the Antivan accent. She could not be serious. But they really seemed to be discussing this time. Instead he pricked up his ears.

"– cut the crap, Ignacio. Is that about Venicio? I did not want to kill him, he left me – "

"No choice." Interrupted the man, shaking his head. "Regrettable, but I am willing to take your word on this. He was not exactly the most reasonable interlocutor for you to talk to. He has never been very forgiving."

Solas pursued his lips. Of course, she would take the blame face to another Crow to avoid him troubles for his actions.

"Forgiving? Give the man some credit, would you forgive the murderer of your son?"

"We can always forgive family, can't we?" He tilted a bit his head to take a look at her neck – more of a dramatic gesture, considering her hood was not letting him see it. "You are not one of us, but you are family, Ellasin.  _I_  made you."

Solas frowned, uncertain. Her ties with the Crows had been obvious for a long time. He knew too little of the Guild to get any insight from that.

"So, what? You are here to blackmail me with  _that_?"

"No, Inquisitor. I am here to offer a truce. Without Venicio, no one is willing to hold to this grudge and we do not want you as an enemy."

"You do not want  _the Inquisition_  as an enemy." Corrected she. She crossed her arms. "And if I refuse you have a lovely ambush ready to use."

Solas looked suddenly around, unnerved. But he spun around too quickly and a root cracked under his foot. He froze as both Mahariel and Ignacio's heads turned towards him. The Crows did not need a word from Ignacio. One had a dagger on his throat less than ten seconds later.

"Master, we have a spy." Mahariel held a hand to Ignacio immediately.

"No. Don't kill anyone before I know who it is."

Ignacio nodded and confirmed the order, apparently really willing to play nice with her. With the hood casting a shadow on her face, Solas could not tell her expression. Her voice was neutral and sovereign when she declared.

"Release him. Now." Ignacio raised an eyebrow.

"He heard us." She glared at him, tone ominous.

"We said nothing he didn't know, and one way or another, I don't fucking care. Release him  _now_. I won't say it again."

She glanced towards a tree nearby. Oran and another elf dropped immediately from a branch, surrounding Ignacio, arrow aimed at his throat. Oran spoke menacingly.

"You heard the mistress."

At the appearance of the extra elves, Solas shifted a bit with surprise.  _Mistress?_ The Crow not immobilizing Solas pulled a dagger out, ready to react. Neither Ignacio or Mahariel moved the slightest. Ignacio's nose finally wrinkled and he said with obvious disapproval.

"You are getting softer."

He gestured to the man holding Solas to do as said. Once the dagger was away and he was not immobilized anymore, Solas remained there, staring into Mahariel's eyes. Not a single expression was readable in her gaze. Ignacio nodded to his men to step back, as did Mahariel. Ignacio pointed out.

" _You_ can talk about ambush." She gave a sarcastic smile.

"I learnt from the best." She paused. "We will continue this conversation. Not like you don't know how to enter the stronghold." He nodded and handed her a paper from his jacket. She raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"A proof of good faith. Be well, my old friend. We shall talk soon."

She kept an eye on him and the three Crows as they left, before going through the paper. A contract, recent one. And her name had disappeared from the post-scriptum. She folded it into her pocket and frowned at Solas. She loudened her voice.

"Leave us." Oran reappeared in a second.

"Mistress?"

"Please."

Oran frowned at Solas but finally nodded. She waited a bit more. She knew her friend wouldn't spy upon her. She looked back at Solas and sighed. Asking why and how would lead nowhere. And she was more worried about what he had heard. She pushed away her hood and went to sit on a nearby trunk.

"You have to stop running into Crows' ambushes."

"So do you." She looked at him an instant before lowering her gaze. She did not even know what to say here. Her teeth played over her lip.

"You can ask, but I cannot promise to answer."

She tried to keep her voice still. She did not want to lose him. Yet, how could she offer the truth? It involved so much more than just her, if the fact that the Inquisitor was the Banal'ras ever slipped…Not only her was undone, the whole Inquisition was, and the rogue organization with it. He remained silent a moment, pondering. He finally came to sit next to her, echoing her sigh.

"I should not have followed you. We are past that. I was worried you would run into troubles, Mahariel. I should know you can take care of yourself. You have my apologies."

She spun at him, dumbfounded. Wide eyes welled up, peering at storm ones. He received the sight with surprise on his face, unsure of what he said to have her tearing up like that.

"Vhenan? Did I...I am making you cry." Declared he lamely, not understanding and yet, angry with himself.

She shook her head, unable to let out a word under the emotion. How could he not confront her? Not step away from her, while she just admitted she would not tell him what this was about? She would not even have hoped for such…Trust. She tried to choke back the tears with little success.

Uncertain of what to do, he tentatively reached for her shoulders to huddle her against his chest. He did not understand for now, but it did not lessen his urge to comfort her. He was relieved to feel her, far from fighting the embrace, welcoming it and sliding into his arms.

He held her close as she tried to calm down, listening to his heartbeat. She peeked up at him from the crook of his neck, eyes full of gratefulness and even more. He smiled softly, stroking the silver hair and waiting for her to speak. Her voice came out low.

"Ma serannas." He tilted his head, still unsure.

"For what?"

"You did not run, you did not…You understand. You…Trust me enough, despite what you saw and heard." She tried to explain her feelings, failing to find the words. He nevertheless nodded slightly, beginning to see what happened.

"You didn't think I would." He paused before adding, seeing how it could have been understood as an accusation. "You didn't think anyone would. Because no one did. Or at least, too few." He could not help but relate. How many had understood why he did what he did? Wisdom, Felassan…Perhaps Nyreos, he was not even certain. She bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly. She lowered her gaze.

"I…Wish it was simpler. I wish I could explain, I want to tell you, I just…"

"Can't."

He finished for her, sadness grasping at his voice. His arms tightened around her. She was too young for this type of burden. He still felt the weight, and he had had thousands of years to get used to it. How complicated had been her life? She left her clan so young, ended up in Tevinter hardly older…Their stories had been so different, yet, they made them alike in many ways. His hand reached for her chin to have her look at him.

"I know you, Mahariel. You protect your people. You make things right. You don't care what sacrifice it will ask from you, you do not even think about it. You do what must be done. This is admirable. I cannot say I do not hope one day, you will allow me to lighten your burden. But I shall not force the truth out of you. I do trust you."

"I don't deserve that, vhenan'ara." She whispered. A slight frown creased his forehead.

"You don't have a say in this, vhenan." She pursued her lips, unable to say anything but to repeat.

"Ma serannas." She paused and closed her eyes. "I trust you too. And…for what it's worth…I'm sorry. For so much." He kissed tenderly her forehead and spoke just as low.

"Me too, vhenan."

She tilted her head slightly, uncertain what he was referring to. She did know he was hiding things but, truth be told, he was obviously better at it than her. It was probably the first time he admitted he had been keeping things. She did not pry, having no wish either to intrude and to force the truth out of him. They fell into a comfortable silence for a time, remaining closely embraced. She eventually asked.

"You were going somewhere, were you not?" He pursued his lips and remembered how he wanted initially to dedicate this night to think, outside of Skyhold. He finally shook his head.

"Not tonight."


	27. All new faded for her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Additional translations in the end notes.

 

* * *

A week later, Solas was in the rotunda, when he felt the Anchor in a strong way. He started at the sudden vivid sensation. Mahariel knew more or less he felt its energy – even without knowing in which extent. He turned his gaze towards the stairwell and she made him a little sign of the head to indicate him to follow. He conformed, definitely wondering if the wave of energy given by the Anchor had been controlled or just a wild manifestation of her will. They took quietly the stairs to the battlement. She finally turned to him when they were out. He nodded his greetings.

"Lethallan, can I help you with anything?" She nodded.

"Matter of fact, yes. I do need your opinion on something." She did not hold his gaze and looked away above the battlements, resting her elbows on it. They did not speak since this unexpected encounter in the forest. She had kept her distance, chastising herself in length to put him in such situation. He wanted time to think, and she was still decided to grant him.

"I'm leaving tomorrow for Caer Oswin with Cassandra and Varric. Then, we will be heading right to the Exalted Plain to take the heat of the Civil War."

"Only Cassandra and Varric?"

She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. Oh. That was what she wanted to know. A subtle way to ask if he was up to be stuck with her for weeks. Very…Orlesian of her. He suppressed a smile at the thought. Better not saying that. He had not finish thinking about the situation, not the slightest. He did not want to see her go, again, without him. But it was what he needed to figure this out. This was the kind of issue he could have spent years debating with himself and spirits at some point…But she could not know that, and for a mortal, a month for an answer could already seem a long-time. Without forgetting he was still giving thoughts to this encounter with the crows. He said he had no wish to force the truth out of her and meant it. Yet, these people with her…Agents? The elf called her  _mistress._ He remembered well enough Nyreos' words about Tevinter. How the elven underground arrived there around the same period, how it could not be a coincidence…What was she? Not a pawn, certainly not. A high ranked agent of Briala? Of the Banal'ras? He looked at the horizon too as he resumed, neutral.

"I'm certain Madame de Fer would be glad to accompany you." If she was disappointed, nothing showed, as usual. She simply nodded.

"I was considering the Champion. It could take her mind off things."

He wanted to ask from what but thought better of it. She was talking about more than the Warden situation. He did not spend as much time as her with the Champion, but it was hard to miss the pain and sadness in her eyes, the way she was grabbing the red ribbon at her wrist instinctively – pretty much the way Mahariel grabbed her pendant actually. Plus the amount of time she spent in the tavern.

"She is a powerful healer."

"Indeed. I will see you when I get back then. Dareth shiral, Solas."

"Dareth Shiral, Mahariel."

* * *

Caer Oswin was not far on the East. Mahariel counted a week and a half to settle this lead and come back in the Frostbacks. She did not plan a break at Skyhold before heading to the Exalted Plain, though. Avoiding Skyhold meant avoiding the peaks of the mountains which could speed the travel by two days and they could be in the Exalted Plain before the end of the month.

The week passed down slowly in Skyhold. Josephine was caught in the preparation of All Soul's day – and pretty pissed at the Inquisitor for bailing on it. Not like anyone in Skyhold was particularly joyful to the perspective of it being the first holiday celebrated in Skyhold – too much going on to even consider Summerday this year. But the Ambassador insisted they had to do something. The Inquisition and Skyhold were a place of pilgrimage now, and they were to expect people for this dark holiday, the memory of the Divine too fresh in everyone's mind. Solas, as anyone remaining in the stronghold – except Sera, discharged after a little incident – was put at work to prepare Skyhold. He did not consider this when he declined the possibility of going with Mahariel. Now that he thought about it, he should have bailed too. A point where he, for once, was in agreement with Dorian. Cole scolded them for the thought, pleading that the celebration was helping.

At the beginning of the last week of the month, they were surprised to see a single horse coming back to Skyhold. Cassandra reassured everyone, confirming the others were fine. She remained elusive on why she decided to come back early. They simply considered she wanted to be there for All Soul's Day. Wouldn't be that surprising.

Solas found some free time in the afternoon. He decided to come back to the thinking part. He had obviously been using the little tasks given by the Ambassador to avoid doing it and he was not happy with himself for that. Not that thinking was actually leading anywhere. He was going round and round in circles…

He finally decided to seek advice. Wisdom would obviously have a word to say on this…

He took a nap to find his oldest friend in the Fade. It used to linger in some long-time forgotten place. He entered the area. And there the yelling began. His eyes widened with awe.  _NO. No, no, no, no, no!_ Wisdom's voice was echoing around him.

"Fen'harel, ar isala mar halani. Ma falon…Garas…Dirth…Dirthavaren."

Its voice fainted as his emotions overwhelmed him and woke him in a jump. But he heard it. Dirthavaren, Wisdom had been summoned in the Exalted Plains. He had to go. Now. He rushed to the rotunda to take his pack.

"Holding against its will. It does not want to hurt. It does not want to be here. Why? Why did you take me here? I don't want, I cannot, don't." Cole appeared next to him, alarmed.

"I heard, Cole. I have to reach it before it is too late."

"I want to help!"

"So, come. But I am leaving now." He did not spin once towards the spirit, busy to pack his healing potions. Dorian's voice raised above them.

"What do you mean you are leaving?!"

"He has to help it. It needs him now. Afraid, alone, it is not right. It should not be here." Dorian looked at Cole, not understanding at all what he was babbling.

"Solas, Mahariel will be back –"

"Too late. And I shall not put one more burden on her." He was already heading out of the rotunda, Cole right behind him. Dorian rushed in the stairs, spitting some curses in Tevene.

"Solas, at least tell me where you are going?"

"Exalted Plain." Dorian raised an eyebrow, at lost before sounding even more alarmed, glancing from the spirit to him.

"Wait, is Cole talking about Mahariel?!" Cole answered first.

"No. I want to help her too but it needs us first." Dorian frowned and turned back at Solas.

"You intend to take the road with only Cole? Are you insane?! The Exalted Plain is – "

"Less than a week away from Skyhold with a good mount. And what game are you playing, Altus?" He finally stopped his steps in the courtyard to look at Dorian.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe do I try to put some sense into you! Wait for Mahariel, or join her on the road at least, you are not thinking clearly!"

"I can take care of myself, mage. And my mind is perfectly clear, thank you. My friend needs my help, it is all you need to know."

"I won't talk you out of it, will I?"

"No."

"Fine, I'm coming too."

"Do what you want, but I will not wait."  _What is wrong with these peoples? Cole, I could understand, but him?_

Both Dorian and Cole right behind him, he reached the stables. The weird company attracted Blackwall's attention. Dorian filled him with the bits of information he had and the Warden declared he was to come too. Dorian, decided to be the keeper of good sense for the time being, grabbed a messenger and told him to go find the spymaster right away to tell her what they were – apparently – doing. He scribbled a quick note. Mahariel had to know what was going on. If anyone could soothe the elf, it was her. She was heading there too, after all. It should be easy for her to catch up with them…Hopefully. The four of them left Skyhold fifteen minutes later.

* * *

Leliana's raven took few hours to find Varric, Hawke and Mahariel. They just bypassed the Frostback by the north. They were taking dinner in a cheerful mood when the raven arrived. Mahariel frowned a bit when she saw the bird. She did not expect any messages before they made it to the Exalted Plain. What could not wait five days to be read in the forward camp? She opened it and her eyes widened with concern.

"Grey?" Varric asked, suddenly alarmed. She did not answer right away, going through the message again. She finally handed it to the dwarf, Hawke already positioned to read above his shoulder – head.

_Mahariel, your dear Fade-Expert is babbling something about a friend of his needing help in the Exalted Plain and he won't listen to anyone. Conclusion, Cole, Blackwall and myself are going with him to do Maker knows what there. Sorry my friend, best I could do, I told him to wait, or at least catch up with you but…Well, you know the man, not like he would listen to anything I say. I'm not sure what it is about. Do not worry, I'm watching your man, not going to die under my watch! Dorian._

Under it was Leliana's handwriting.

_Inquisitor, I do not have any more information about this matter. But I have to say…I'm concerned, I never saw Solas like this. I will be in contact with Dorian to stay informed of their position if you want to catch up with them. Leliana._

"Well…Shit. What do we do?"

That was a good question. They find a way to catch up with them. But there was more than one road to their destination and they were not on the same. And the others were closer to the Exalted Plain by a good day, considering they were way north. She shook her head.

"First, I have to see if I can find Solas or Dorian in the Fade to get a better location."  _and understand what the hell is going on._ "Then, I'll go." Hawke corrected.

"Then,  _we'll_  go." Mahariel shook her head.

"I can be there faster on my own. My hart is the fastest and, if needed, I can let it in an outpost and Fade-walk. You will catch up with us in the Exalted Plain."

The argument went on a brief time before Varric and Hawke reluctantly agreed.

* * *

Once in the Fade, Mahariel focused on the Anchor to direct it to Solas. It was late, hopefully they would have taken a break. The mark flickered on her palm and she found herself in the Exalted Plain…Well, the Fade-version at least. She spotted Solas several meters ahead, seeking.

"Solas!" He started and turned around at her voice. His eyes widened.  _How did she find me so easily? Her skills in walking the Fade are becoming impressive…_ She came quickly closer. "Solas, I got Dorian and Leliana's message, what is going on?"

"One of my oldest friends has been captured by mages, forced into slavery. I heard the cry for help as I slept." He explained with large movements, affliction in his eyes.

"Solas, I'm sorry I wasn't here." She answered earnestly, shaking his head. "We will rescue them. What did these mages use to capture your friend? Blood magic?"

"A summoning circle, I would guess." She raised an eyebrow "My friend is a spirit of Wisdom." Added he.  _Of course, a spirit you idiot! This is how he heard it!_ "Unlike the spirits clamoring to enter our world through the rifts, it was dwelling quite happily in the Fade. It was summoned against its will, and wants my help to gain its freedom and return to the Fade" She frowned a bit.

"I thought spirits wanted to find their way into this world."

"Some do, certainly. Just as many Orlesian peasants wish they could journey to exotic Rivaini. But not everyone wants to go to Rivaini. My friend is an explorer, seeking lost wisdom and reflecting it." He paused and smiled slightly, thinking of it. "It would happily discuss philosophy with you, but it had no wish to come here physically." She nodded. M _ake sense, but so why would mages summon it?_

"Any idea what the mages want with your friend?"

"No. It knows a great deal of lore and history, but a mage could learn that simply by speaking to it in the Fade." Concern jumped back into his eyes. "It is possible that they seek information it does not wish to give and intend to torture it." Seeing him alarmed, she leaned closer to take his hands. She locked his gaze with hers and smiled confidently and comfortingly.

"We are going to save your friend, Solas." His features softened. She continued to impress him, answering so spontaneously, agreeing on the friend material of a spirit… _Wisdom would love her._

"Thank you." A bit of guilt took her eyes.

"Don't thank me, I was not here earlier when you needed me. But I'm on my way. Can you show me where you are so I can take my leave?" He hesitated.  _She does not need something more to handle but…I want her to be here._ He could almost hear wisdom's voice in his ear.  _Do not shut her out, lethallin._  Yes, it was right. He closed his eyes to show her their camp. She nodded and stroked his cheek.

"Perfect. I will catch up. Er…I could use you however, I don't manage the  _wake up_ thing yet." He smiled and took her in a tight embrace for a little while before whispering in her ear.

"Wake up."

She jumped on her feet. Time to go.

She gave a quick heads-up to Varric and Hawke before hopping on Era. She patted the hart's neck, apologizing in advance for the hard-ride that was awaiting them.

As soon as they were far enough from the camp, she changed their direction, going back toward the Frostback. The closest eluvian was in a cave in the surroundings of Skyhold. She knew another mirror had been hidden in the Exalted Plain. Sylaise's shrine if her memories were working properly. She gave a concerned look at her mount. Not that sure how Era would respond to the Crossroads.

* * *

Solas, Dorian, Blackwall and Cole reached the Exalted Plain in record time. The elf did not let them took more than a handful of sleep, just the time for him to seek the Exalted Plain to find more clues about the place Wisdom had been summoned. Sadly, it meant as well that Mahariel had a hard time catching up. The closer he was to the area, the more Solas seemed concerned and troubled and it had a strange effect on the Fade. She just couldn't reach him. Hopefully, Leliana did keep constant contact with Dorian so she knew where to go. After three days of hard-ride and travel in the Crossroad, she made it to the first Inquisition outpost of the area. She began to ask to the scouts if they had seen the group when Cole appeared next to her.

"Hurt, it cannot be, what have they done." Her heart tightened.

"Cole! Where is he?"

"This way. He doesn't know but he needs you." She looked at her hart, exhausted as the animal was.  _No, too slow_. She focused and fade-stepped. Cole and her went past the Dalish camp into a meadow. She stumbled. Fade-walking like that was horrifyingly mana-consuming. Her head was spinning. But she could see them. She ran towards the group, Cole close to her. She could hear the argument.

"Solas, your friend is a demon – "

"It is not, this is their doing! It is a spirit of wisdom!"

"It  _was_."

"Enough!" Mahariel's voice resounded, shutting Dorian's mouth. She stumbled again, exhausted. She was wearing a hooded black cape in order to journey incognito. Solas' eyes widened as he saw her. She could see the pain on his face. Blackwall, closer to her, caught her arm, afraid she was going to fall. She waved his worry.

"Too much fade-walk, going to be fine any minute. What is – Oh." Her eyes laid on the summoning circle and the Pride demon. She closed her eyes with pain, not needing any more confirmation. Her voice was low and soft when she declared "They corrupted it." Solas looked down.

"Yes."

"You said it was a spirit of wisdom, not a fighter."

"A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose."

"So, they summoned it for something so opposed to its own nature that it was corrupted…Fighting." She sighed and shook her head.  _Stupid sons of a bitch…_ A mage came carefully closer. Solas frowned and said bitterly.

"Let us ask  _them_." The unknown mage spoke up.

"A mage! You are not with the bandits? Do you have any lyrium potions? Most of us are exhausted. We've been fighting that demon…" Solas snapped at him.

"You summoned that  _demon_! Except it was a spirit of wisdom at the time. You made it kill, you twisted it against its purpose."

"I..I…I understand how it might be confusing to someone who has not studied demons , but after you help us, I can…"  _Wrong answer._ Both Solas and Mahariel crossed their arms.  _This idiot got to be kidding me._

"We are not here to help  _you._ "

"True. And let's be clear, don't try to teach my friend here how demons work." Added Mahariel. The mage tried again, desperate.

"Listen to me! I was one of the foremost experts in the Kirkwall Circle –" Solas interrupted rudely, almost yelling at him.

"Shut up. You summoned it to protect you from the bandits."

"I – Yes." Solas resumed.

"You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill.  _That_ is when it turned."  _Told you he was smarter than you, felasil._ The elf's face spun to Mahariel, still irritated but not yelling at her. "The summoning circle. We break it, we break the binding. No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon." She considered her words.  _Yes, that could –_

"What? The binding is the only thing keeping the demon from killing us! Whatever it was before, it is a monster now!" This time, Mahariel snapped.

"Will you shut up! You are stupid enough to corrupt a rare old spirit, you don't get a voice in it! Fenedhis, why did Hawke forget to kill  _you_!" The mage grew blank and remained silent. Solas looked with pleading eyes at her.

"Inquisitor, please." If the mention of Hawke wasn't enough, the title put the mage ajar as he realized what he had been saying to the Inquisitor and her friend. She ignored him and smiled at Solas, hoping to reassure him. She nodded.

"I've studied rituals like this. I should be able to disrupt the binding quickly." Relief on his face, he replied earnestly.

"Thank you." She cleared her throat and turn towards Blackwall, Dorian and Cole. Time to come up with a plan. The Pride demon roared.

"We must hurry!" Declared Solas.

* * *

Mahariel looked ruefully at Solas and Wisdom. He squatted in front of it.

"Lethallin ir abelas."

"Tel'abelas. Enansal. Ir tel'him. Ma melava halani. Mala suledin nadas. Ma ghilani mir din'an." Solas paused and looked down, full of grief. He sighed.

"Ma nuvenin" He waved his hands in front of it and the spirit faded in the wind. "Dareth shiral."

Mahariel was standing behind him. The others were few steps back even less sure than she was what to do. She...failed. She…failed him. And now, he had lost one of his oldest friend. Her throat and heart were tightened, full of sadness and guilt. But he did not need that now.

"I heard what it said. It was right. You did help it."

"Now I must endure" He answered, his thoughts elsewhere.

"Let me know if I can help." He smiled faintly and stood up to turn towards her.

"You already have." He looked at her with a new determination she did not quite understand. However, he quickly spun towards the mages responsible for his loss and anger echoed in his voice. "all that remains now is them." The Kirkwall mage spoke again…With words even more lamely chosen than before.

"Thank you. We would not have risked a summoning, but the roads are too dangerous to travel unprotected." Solas walked threateningly towards them.

"You tortured and killed my friend!"

"We didn't know, it was just a spirit! The book said it could help us!" Mahariel nothing but spat behind Solas.

"Oh, just a spirit so it was okay. Well, so I guess you are  _just_ a mage so it is okay." A mage behind the idiot spoke up, looking at her with fear.

"But…You are the Inquisitor and you…You are here to save us!" Mahariel laughed, her eyes sharp as an evil grin took her lips.

"When did I say that I would save  _you_?"

She crossed her arms looking at the group with disgust. No, there was no excuse. They were trained mages, not mere apprentices. Her sight was hard as she watched Solas' magic destroying them. He glanced bitterly at the new corpses.

"Damn them all." He did not look at her but the anger left a bit his voice as he declared. "I need some time alone. I will meet you back at Skyhold."

She hesitated as he left the meadow. Dorian, Blackwall and Cole, behind her, were still silent. She finally shook her head. He didn't have to grieve alone but she could understand the need. Nevertheless, she was concerned about him and was not very eager to leave him hurt, by himself in a hostile area. She sighed and looked at Cole.

"Cole, can you keep an eye on him, just to make sure he does not run into trouble. Discreetly. And…Do just that, don't intrude, leave him his space. Please." Cole looked at her and nodded.

"I wish to help, he is hurt. But you are hurt too, if I am with him, who's watching over you?" She frowned a bit.

"I'm perfectly fine Cole, I just don't like seeing a friend hurt."

"You wish to help but don't know how. I will watch over him, yes. Hurt, loss, grief, one less friend –"

"Cole, don't." She interrupted. "Let him some privacy." The spirit's head tilted but he finally nodded again and disappeared. Good, he would keep her inform if she needed to intervene.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ar isala mar halani. Ma falon…Garas…Dirth…Dirthavaren – I need your help. Come to the Exalted Plains.
> 
> Felasil - Idiot
> 
> Lethallin ir abelas – I'm sorry, lethallin
> 
> Tel'abelas. Enansal. Ir tel'him. Ma melava halani. Mala suledin nadas. Ma ghilani mir din'an. – Don't be. It's a blessing, I'm me again. You helped. Now, you must endure. Guide me into death.
> 
> Ma nuvenin – As you wish
> 
> Dareth shiral - Goodbye


	28. All new faded for her - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you all are having good holidays and considering, an early happy new year!  
> Additional translations in the end notes.

 

* * *

 

Mahariel, Dorian, and Blackwall took advantage of the remaining of the day to work a bit in the area, clearing the barricades from the undead. The fight was harder than she expected, the arcane horror giving them a hard time, and her ice magic helping but little. They were exhausted and in need of healing quicker than they wished. She was feeling pretty defeated. It would hardly make her feel better for what happened earlier with wisdom, though she really wanted to do something useful and not to fail at it. Again.

She finally led them back to the first outpost for the night. She had kept quiet most of the day since Solas left and they had respected it, seeing she was obviously upset as well. Dorian, unlike Blackwall, did have a guess in which extent. Her guilt was palpable, and he quickly gave up on trying to lighten her, letting her just go and kill corpses as she wished. During the dinner, she eventually spoke to both of them.

"Thank you for not letting him come alone."

"Of course, Inquisitor. He is one of us, if he needs help, we shall be there." Answered Blackwall. Her eyes were grateful yet she teased.

"Seriously Blackwall, call me Mahariel."

"Shouldn't you look for him by the way?" Asked Dorian. She shook her head.

"He wants to be alone. Cole is watching over him, I won't barge unless this is necessary." Dorian raised an eyebrow.

"He  _thinks_ he wants to be alone."

"He is a grown-man Dorian, he knows what he wants."

If she was saddened by this statement, nothing showed. Though, Blackwall glanced questioningly at Dorian. He was hardly aware of gossips in Skyhold and felt a bit at loss there. She glared at Dorian, daring him to answer the untold question. She was already opposed to these rumors, add to it her mood…Hopefully, Cole popped next to them, playing welcome distraction. Her eyes widened with concern.

"Cole, is something wrong?"

"He is hurt but he is safe. I can show you where if you want."

"Tel'isala da'len. Dar uth Dirthavaren?" She asked, knowing that the spirit could understand elvhen.

"Yes. Not far. Inan vhen asha. Nuvenin.  _Isala_. Ma vhenan. Too proud, he won't admit it." She sighed. She didn't ask for this. At least he began to understand she did not wanted the other to understand.

"Ma serannas, da'len."

"Arasha. Dirthavaren. He doesn't know yet. But I hear it. Ar lat –"

"Cole!" She interrupted in a hurry, not liking where he was going. Mischief jumped into Dorian's eyes.

"Venhedis, what was he going to say?" Mahariel looked at Cole intensively.  _Do not translate or end this one, please…I'd rather you forget it._

"What…What were we saying?" The spirit asked suddenly tilting his head. Mahariel's eyes widened yet again.  _Oh crap._

"Creators, sorry Cole! I didn't mean to –"

"It's fine, I only wish to help. You didn't want to do it." He smiled, even if he didn't know what he was talking about, just feeling her sudden guilt.

"What happened?" Asked Blackwall.

"I…I made him forget." She confessed while looking down, ashamed. This was not right to do that to a spirit.

"You can do that?" She looked apologetic, unusually fidgeting her fingers.

"I didn't know, obviously. I would have been more careful." She cleared her throat to chase her unease. "Well, I guess what's done is done. Cole, can you go back to watch him?"

The boy nodded and disappeared once more.

* * *

 

Solas was indeed sitting on rocks, out of sight for them. He had used the afternoon to wander in Wisdom's favorite place in the Fade. Empty. Nothing but memories. It was one of his oldest friend, it had been here for thousands of years and now…Now he felt alone, once more. He felt Cole's presence lingering nearby. He wasn't angry at him, he was being but his purpose. He did not feel him earlier but he was wondering if it meant he wasn't around. He spoke up.

"You wanted to say something, Cole?" The spirit appeared next to him.

"I'm sorry for your friend. Hurt, alone. But you don't have to be. You look at her and you smile. She is still here. Afraid, this is not right, not like that. She can understand, you just have to tell. She feels it too, she won't abandon you. You don't have to be alone."

Solas sighed. He had hesitated to stop the spirit but finally did not. He was a spirit of compassion and…

"Thank you, Cole. It actually helps." The boy looked at him with hope.

"She wants to be here but thinks you don't want her to. I can tell her you want."

"I…I'd rather you not to Cole. Not yet…I'll consider it. She sent you?"

"No. Yes. She asked me to watch you because she was worried. She wanted me to stay away, not seen, not here. I decided to talk."

"I see." He nodded. "Thank you, Cole, I wish to be alone now."

Cole disappeared instantly. He was a nice spirit. Younger, way younger than Wisdom. He resumed his contemplation of Mahariel for a time. Once or twice, he was almost sure she glanced in his direction while the party ate, mostly in silence from what he could tell. But she did not come. However, once everyone else was in their cot, she went outside and this time, seemed decided to come. He first went to move. He was not ready, not yet. He needed to mourn by himself. But she stopped around rocks, way ahead of him and put a pile of things on it. He could not make out clearly her eyes, yet, he felt like she looked straight at him for mere seconds before lowering her head and turning around. He could obviously not hear the faintest of whisper she let out.

"Ir abelas, vhenan'ara."

He waited some minutes before standing. He made his way to the rocks to observe what she left there. A blanket, a pillow and food. He found himself smiling softly.

After the dinner she offered him, his steps led him towards a cave.

Cole came back to Mahariel to tell her where he was. She hesitated but eventually sneaked out of the camp to find a discreet spot near the cave to take a watch. She was not to disturb him. Though, for his wards were a thing, between the corpses, the freemen, the wolves, the bandits, the venatori, it wasn't sufficient. She could not stay away with so many threats hovering above him.

She did not sleep of the night, keeping the watch.

She spotted him quickly once he woke up and walked out of the cave. Her eyes had barely been leaving its entry for long hours now. She glanced down at the few venatori that came too close during the night. Her nose wrinkled. Considering the trend going on here of these turning into undead, she should burn them before leaving. Despite herself, tiredness got the best of her before she could proceed though. Her eyelids were heavy, after the exhausting journey, the fade-walking, the barricades and a sleepless night…It was too much.

Solas had on his mind to find some bushes with berries for his breakfast, having but little left from the dinner. His steps took him toward her spot, and it was not long for him to feel the Anchor, hardly discreet without her awareness and efforts to hide it. He looked up to find her asleep on a branch. Before he could process his bewilderment, Cole appeared.

"She could not stay awake anymore." The spirit explained. Solas frowned, not understanding.

"Why do you mean  _not anymore_?"

"To be here in time, she barely slept for days. And last night she didn't at all. Worry, afraid. He is alone in a hostile place. Look." He pointed the corpses, hidden behind the trunk. Solas' lips parted and his brows furrowed.

"Fenedhis, she must be exhausted! she needs to rest."

"She does not feel the need if she thinks you are not safe."

They had walked the hill and were standing under her. He needed to take her back to a camp. She could not stay there. Hopefully the branch she was on wasn't high. He waved his hand to make her move just enough so she fell into his arms. He had done it gently, hoping not to wake her. Of course, it did not work. Falling from a tree was the kind of thing doomed to wake up someone. She started and babbled.

"Solas! What… - " She blinked several times to process. She understood quickly enough. " I…Fenedhis, I'm so sorry, lethallin, you said you wanted to be alone and I…" He put her feet on the ground and smiled genuinely.

"Tel'abelas, vhenan. But please, you need to rest, let us take you back to a camp." She shook her head.

"No, I'm fine. I…I can go back by myself…I…I shouldn't have intruded and –"

He silenced her by pulling her into his arms.

"You did not intrude." Uttered he softly.

For once since Wisdom died, he felt his pain slightly soothed. He took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of her magic, the smell of her hair, the touch of her body. He felt her relax in his arms. She said nothing, understanding he merely wished this comfort.  _Fenedhis, I missed her, I love her s – wait, what?_  He opened his eyes to see a smile on Cole's face, few steps behind Mahariel. Of course, he heard  _that_. He composed himself and whispered.

"Sleep."

* * *

 

Cole went to grab Dorian and Blackwall at Solas' demand. The boy did not seem surprised to find Varric and Hawke with them. Of course, he was not. They were both damn beacons for a spirit of compassion. Mahariel was sleeping deeply on the ground next to him. Few times, he caught himself cleaning her forehead from a rebel strands. He had reluctantly settled her head on his pack instead of his laps before they came too close. He remained now next to her, but at a respectable distance. He stood up when they arrived. The four of them looked at the Inquisitor with surprise and a hint of worry. Solas explained.

"I put a sleeping spell on her, she is harassed and needs to rest. You should take her back to a camp." Declared he. Dorian raised an eyebrow.

"Let me guess, she won't be in a good mood when she wakes up." His brows furrowed a bit though, he had to admit…

"That is a possibility." Hawke shook her head with disbelief.

"Great, and when are we to expect sleepyhead to wake up?" Solas considered her question. Well, he had casted quite a strong sleeping spell to be fair. It could take few days.

"The day after tomorrow." They widened their eyes, ajar. He resumed. "Look at the dark circles around her eyes. She needs even more than that." They considered her face and winced. He had a point. "I cannot believe you let her fight yesterday." Added he accusingly, glaring at Dorian and Blackwall. The mage raised a brow and crossed his arms.

"My good man, you just admitted you put her to sleep by surprise. I trust you know well enough how telling our dear herald she is in no shape to do something would lead nowhere." Solas' nose wrinkled but he did not comment farther and turned to Cole.

"If anything happens, you find me right away, understood?"

"Yes but I don't understa –"

"Let it be Cole." He interrupted. "I'll be back. I just need time to process." The spirit knew he was not only referring to Wisdom's death. He finally nodded. Blackwall lifted Mahariel carefully. Solas looked at him doing so, refraining his urge to take her from his arms. He suppressed a frown of worry. She was going to be safe. If she was not, Cole would catch him. Varric lingered a bit. He put tentatively a hand on his arm.

"Heard what happened. Not sure I really understood all of it, but…I'm sorry, Chuckles."

"Thank you, master Tethras." Varric muttered a sigh.

"You aren't going to bail on her, are you?" Solas' features gave away nothing and he merely repeated.

"I need time. I'll be back."

"So I hope."

* * *

 

Hawke took the lead for the two following days, Varric, Dorian or Cole always staying with the Inquisitor. If she had learned anything in Kirkwall, it was definitely how to take the heat of a conflict. And there was enough to do in the area to keep them busy anyway.

When she woke up, Mahariel was mostly unnerved, not certain of what happened. And when she did remember, she put on the mask, not letting anything show.

The first thing she decided to do was to head to the Dalish Clan she had spotted. She should have done that two days earlier, considering. She asked the party to remain behind while she made her way closer, scanning the camp quickly as she searched the Keeper. The troubles in this area could not have made it easy on them. Though, she knew the reaction of Dalish if she was to show up, and a keeper knew her face. Except for Cole, the rest of them looked at the exchange from afar and with narrowed eyes, hoping somehow to make out some words. Varric and Blackwall above all, remembered how it went last time she crossed path with a Dalish. It was…Weird. Unusual for all they knew of these elves. However, she did not give them the occasion to get much out of it, as she retreated to an aravel with the Keeper.

Solas had followed more or less the party in its displacements that day, knowing Mahariel was to be awaken by now. He merely wanted to see if she was fine, but seeing they were taking the way of the Dalish camp…It picked his curiosity. He could see the expression of few elves, that is, see mixed feelings. A form of suspicion and fear, but also respect. These were but a minority, most appeared to merely disregard her, if not eyeing her mismatched tattoos.

When she came out, she simply told the others what needed to be done and did not share any other piece of information with them. Or the fact that she could feel Solas' presence nearby.

The night after the meeting, she sneaked out of the camp, going in the forest past the clan. She was back in a hooded cape. Few hunters of the clan were waiting for her, as much as Oran and, for once, Eludyssia. The hunter from clan Lavellan was her oldest friend, and her most trusted agent with Oran. Mahariel was tensed about this secret meeting, unable to get a single hint of where Solas was. She did not want him running in yet another thing she could not explain. The timing for this was terrible, she had so much things on her mind. But they needed to plan for the Winter Palace, as much as any faction that was to attend. Officially or not.

In the meantime, and somewhere else in the Exalted Plain, Nyreos was seeking his Lord as well. They usually met in the Fade, especially since the Inquisition reached Skyhold. But as Solas was noticing Mahariel's ability to find him more and more easily, he had more or less shut down his agent for the past couple of days, and Nyreos was growing concerned. The elf did not stay long, however, understanding quickly that now was not a good time.

* * *

 

By the end of August and after weeks of processing, mourning and grieving, Solas finally stepped into Skyhold, expecting a very pissed Mahariel to appear. He spotted her soon enough, going down the main stairs. Leliana probably informed her he was back. He swallowed a bit, more stressed than he would admit. The whole sleep thing was…Ruder than he wanted, he did realize it. He just wanted her to rest but, thinking about from her point of view, he had put her to sleep for days and send her away without a word when all she did was to be caring. And he finally showed up almost a month later. She reached him and he cleared his throat.

"Inq – Mahariel." He corrected himself. She looked at him with a comprehensive smile.

"How are you, Solas?"

"It hurts, it always does. But I will survive."

She wanted to hug him but considered the very public courtyard and restrained herself.

"Thank you for coming back."

"You were a true friend. You did everything you could to help. I could hardly abandon you now."

She smiled with relief. Of course, he did say he will meet them back here but…The way he embraced her before sending her away sounded somehow way too much like an untold goodbye. At least he was back, that was more than she had hoped these past days. Cole kept telling her he was fine and intended to be back, though, she could not help her concerns.

"Where did you go?"

"I found a quiet spot and went to sleep. I visited the place in the Fade where my friend used to be. It's empty, but there are stirrings of energy in the Void. Someday something new may grow there." She glanced questioningly.

"What happens when a spirit dies?"

"It isn't the same as for mortals. The energy of spirits returns to the Fade. If the idea giving the spirit form is strong, or if the memory has shaped other spirits, it may someday rise again." A sparkle of hope jumped in her eyes.

"You're saying your friend might come back?"

"No. Not really. A spirit's natural state is peaceful semi-existence. It is rare to be able to reflects reality. Something similar may return one day, but it might have a different personality. It would likely not remember me. It would not be the friend I knew."

She listened carefully to his words but the ones she really heard were  _might_ and  _likely_. The point was it could. She grinned genuinely at the idea. He smiled back even if he did not think like her. Her smile was promising everything, as always, and…He couldn't help but listen to it, even if it was little. She finally answered, voice soft.

"The next time you have to mourn, you don't need to be alone." He looked away, thoughtful.

"It has been so long since I could trust someone."

Sadness took her eyes.  _What in the world happened to him for him to be…like me._  She finally realized. She may be the one telling him he didn't need to be alone, but she would have done just the same.

"I know."

"I…Would you mind continuing this discussion somewhere else, if you have a moment?"

She nodded and began to climb back the stairs before finding a shadowed spot. He raised an eyebrow.  _Not really what I had in mind…_ She waved the thought.

"Still need a piece of drama to go through the hall. Nobles are not quite happy with my absence at All Soul's Day and they are jumping at me every time I walk through the door so…"

She took off a ring he had never seen her with before – useful little thing she found in Var'Bellanaris – and put it in his hand.

"You use this, I fade-cloak and we rush to my quarters, hoping no one notices the door opening and closing. Works for you?"

He muttered a chuckle and nodded, quickly figuring what was the ring for. For all the time she spent in stealth, good thing she found something to preserve her mana and stamina.

They reached her quarters, out of breath. This was quite the run and half of the main hall was suspicious but here they were.

They went to the balcony, in need for fresh air. He finally put on his serious face. He told her he needed time to think and he had. A lot. It had been what? Two months…And so much things happened. He knew what he wanted and he thought he could make it work. Given she still wanted him, despite how much time he took. She was different, she was…real but…Fenedhis how could she? He wanted to understand how he had made such a mistake – know  _if_ it was a mistake, after all the Anchor…

"What were you like, before the Anchor?" She looked at him, surprised by the question and glanced at her hand… _Er not the herald, not the inquisitor, a mage, an assassin? What does he mean?_ "Has it affected you? Changed you in any way? Your mind, your moral, your…spirit?" She turned the question a bit in her head but finally answered with a shrug.

"If it has, how would  _I_ notice?" He looked at her and chuckled.

"That's an excellent point."

"Why do you ask?"

"You show a wisdom I have not seen since…" His voice suddenly loudened excitedly. "since my deepest journeys into the ancient memories of the Fade. You are not what I expected."  _Considering his grim and fatalistic self, I guess this is not that bad_. She smirked.

"Sorry to disappoint."

"It's not disappointing, it's.."  _Damn, all serious…_ He sighed, thoughtful. "most people are predictable. You have shown subtlety in your actions, a wisdom that goes against everything I expected."

_Yeah but we all get the point where your expectations were pretty low, considering the condescending ass you were when we met._  She thought with a laughter in the inside.  _Fenedhis, things have…changed, to say the least._

"If the Dalish could…"  _Oh Creators, not that again._ "…raise someone with a spirit like yours…Have I misjudged them?" Her eyes widened.  _He is asking me? Really? That was unexpected._ Still, her face hardened a bit.

"The Dalish did not make me like this. The decisions were mine."  _Sure they would agree._ He gave a small smile.

"Yes, you are wise to give yourself that due. Although, the Dalish, in their fashions, may still have guided you. Perhaps that is it. I suppose it must be. Most people act with so little understanding of the world, but not you."

"I've had other schools than the Dalish, besides." He nodded.

"True."  _Hum yes, and? Where is he going with that?_

"So, what does this mean Solas?" He smiled, his voice smooth and his eyes mischievous.

"It means I have not forgotten the kiss."  _Kiss, that is quite the understat – Oh._ The words somehow reached her ears and she stayed speechless. Yeah that was true they didn't speak of what happened since…Well what happened and he said he needed to think about it and… _Oh so this is…_

"Good."

_Well, you found your voice back…This was incredibly lame, but at least you found it back. Okay you know what? Stop the words, it makes you look stupid_. She leaned closer to him. He looked at her eyes and then at her lips. And he made a nonsense. Again. He shook his head and began to spun towards the door, a sparkle of sadness in his eyes. She reached his arm and whispered.

"Don't go." He looked at her caringly, but still with this unexplained sadness. His eyes deep in hers, he resumed.

"It would be kinder in the long-run…" He paused, contemplating her. "But losing you would –"

He didn't end his sentence. He pressed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss, as he took her in a tight embrace…The same tight embrace she had felt their last night before the others arrive in Skyhold. Full of the same fear of losing her. She put her arms around him, trying to reassure him in this sudden fear she didn't quite understand. It was not the passionate kiss of long holding-back desire, it was tender and soft. The lust was lingering but quiet as the genuine love was forward. They parted their lips a bit. Finally, they rested their forehead against each other. His eyes were still sorrowful. He declared as he broke the embrace.

"Ar lath ma, vhenan."

Her breath caught in her throat. Her lips parted faintly and her eyes welled up as she looked at him.  _He…He…_ For some reason, he didn't seem to want any kind of answer. He took his leave, heading downstairs. He let her absolutely and wonderfully ajar, processing and lamely unable to prevent him from leaving her quarters.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tel'isala da'len. Dar uth Dirthavaren? – No need, child. Is he still in the Exalted Plains?
> 
> Inan vhen asha. Nuvenin. Isala. Ma vhenan. – Eyes toward her. Want. Need. My heart.
> 
> Arasha. Dirthavaren. – My happiness. A promise.
> 
> Vhenan'ara – desire of my heart.
> 
> Ar lath ma, vhenan. – I love you, my heart.


	29. Official version

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy and happy First Day! I wrote some First Day fluff for these two silly elves, if anyone is interested. Additional translations in the end notes.

 

* * *

By the beginning of Kingsway, Skyhold was upside down. Two months before the Grand Ball. Theoretically, they should be ready by then. If a billion things stopped getting in the way.

If anything, Josephine had gotten Mahariel to agree not to venture outside of Shyhold before the Winter Palace.

The white-hair was preparing herself before heading to a meeting with the advisors. She was pacing up and down in her quarters. Leliana did not elaborate why they were meeting. That's why she knew exactly why. They had been comprehensive and respective of her secrecy. But with the Ball coming, the need for an  _official version_  was stronger than ever. The spymaster had kept close-control of the rumors, crushing the most dangerous ones. But everyone knew what she looked like by now. The all Thedas was aware of the mismatched tattoos she was bearing. Except for the one in her back, that is. She muttered a sigh. Well, time for some more half-truths then.

She entered the War-Room and was surprised to find only Leliana in it. Wasn't she supposed to meet the three of them? If not the four with Cassandra? Leliana looked up and answered the untold question.

"I imagine you are well aware of the matter today. I'd rather keep this discussion to ourselves in order to make things easier for the others. It will be easier to digest the story if they do not witness previous attempts at constructing it." Mahariel nodded.

"I see your point. So, care to tell me what we are dealing with?"

"My issue is on the Qunari and Tevinter tattoo." She paused and nodded knowingly at her movement for soundproofing. "We can still spread word that you were a mercenary in Seheron without elaborating further. Given no one there is to deny this claim."

Mahariel held her accusing gaze. True enough, she had kept this secret for long now, and the spymaster was getting tired of not being able to uncover it. Unlike Solas, she did not even have a name to go with. It did not mean she learnt nothing, but considering what she thought she knew, this was making the situation extremely complicated.

"Why don't you start with what you think you know." Stated Mahariel. She was no fool, Leliana was good at her job. The redhead's features remained unreadable.

"You don't act like a slave. Never did. So, my researches have been about free white-hair elves. Turns out, there are not that much. Especially known arcane warrior." Mahariel closed her eyes and sighed. That was doomed to leak.

"How long have you known?"

"I've had insights after we reached Skyhold. Then, I tried to get more from Dorian. Extremely loyal to you, by the way, I was impressed. Though, the defensive can tell as much to those who know how to listen."

"I see. And no one jumped at my throat yet, because…?"

Leliana frowned deeply and her fist met the table of heavy wood rather fiercely.

"Damn it, Mahariel! No one here would have jumped at your throat! We would have known there was a story there, that it was not as bad as it sounded! But yes, I kept your secret, because now, this is a real problem! You lied and you deceived. Do you think it was hard once I had the name Calessia to know that you knew Alexius and Felix?!" Mahariel received the angry yells with a frown of her own, her pride picked by the scolding.

"Oh, please! People would have understood? Wouldn't have I been handcuffed and accused of blood magic?! Again?! Let's be real 'Lia, one doesn't say  _Hello, I'm the apprentice of a Magister_ and gets away with it! Not here, and not in Tevinter. Don't you think the Magisterium would have been pretty pissed to have the so-called  _Herald of Andraste_ being an apprentice?!"

"You keep deciding not to trust anyone here! You could have said it, if not then, later!" She sighed heavily, closing her eyes. The redhead sat on a chair, features exhausted. She shook her head, voice getting softer. "I have been a former bard too. And I kept secrets too, from everyone. It always catches up, Mahariel. And when it does, this is when you are alone. Not because of them, but because you let no one in when you got the chance."

Mahariel's nose wrinkled. She was not a child, she did not need a lecture about what she should do or not. Ending up Inquisitor was not exactly part of the situations an assassin or spy learnt how to deal with. She bit her bottom lip, considering the words more than she would admit. Though, she did not comment on it.

"Tevinter kept quiet until now. They probably do not know quite what to do with the Inquisitor being the apprentice of a Magister. If they wanted it to be known, they would have made it known, as the Dalish did. I did travel to Seheron and I have been a mercenary. The Inquisition cannot lie but is not responsible for some quick assumptions." Leliana looked up at her and sighed again before coming back to business too.

"But why tattoos?"

"A Dalish exile trying to survive on an island eaten by war?"

"Hum…Easy way to be seen as an ally, indeed. Maybe it would be better to play on the inexperienced lost Dalish girl who did what she had to survive either than the mercenary, considering? How would you tell this story, including the Dalish and Crows aspects?" Mahariel was thoughtful a moment. Her hand brushed her neck. That was her time to sigh. Here they go, then.

"I left the Dalish because of a discovered fourth mage. There was no room for him so I left to give him the spot. I was young – sixteen – and frightened. I met an elven Crow. The tattoo on my neck, is an engagement one. For both Dalish and Crows, inks have powerful significance. When he died, I left the South and found myself between Qunari and Tevinter. I did what I had to survive, maybe was even eager to add new tattoos, hoping to lessen the importance of the one given by my former betrothed by surrounding it with others."

Leliana glanced at her with a sparkle of pain and surprise in her eyes. For all she appeared to ignore her earlier words…She had told the story straight, without looking at her or anywhere in particular. Despite what they were trying to do, the Spymaster was sure of one thing.

"This is the truth. A part of it, at least."

"Yes." Leliana hesitated a second.

"Are you ready for this to be heard?" Mahariel shook slowly her head.

"I will not ask of you that you lie on my behalf." Assessed she firmly. She would not have asked for her to do so about  _Calessia_ either. She paused and looked finally at the Spymaster. "You did break the Crows' code, did you not?" Leliana nodded.

"I did, with the help of an old friend. However, I did not find anything in the contracts pointing to you. This was odd."

Mahariel frowned a bit. The Nightingale was a quick-mind, she would have understood.  _An old friend…_ There had been rumors of the identity of the Black Shadow and…. _Oh. He did not translate the post-scriptum. I owe him one._  She simply smirked. Enough of heart-to-heart for one meeting.

"Mystery for another day." Leliana's features enlightened with typical bard mischief.

"Indeed."

"Anyway, what do you think of the story?" Leliana seemed thoughtful before she nodded with a professionally appreciative look.

"This is good. A bit of sympathy cannot do any harm, and they will see you as a fragile harmless thing and be less careful. How wrong they will be. Add the modesty of you refusing this to be spread earlier because you did not want sympathy votes and reluctantly agreed for the pleasure of the Court."

"Happy to hear my story is  _useful_." She heard her bitter tone and chastised herself for it. She dismissed Leliana's concern with a gesture and cleared her throat. "My apologies, I did not mean to sound so rude."

"It's okay, Mahariel. I understand this is not the kind of story you want to share with all Thedas. Another thing: we shall not bring it up if not asked, but what about the apprentice matter? It still can leak."

"I am a…peculiar case in Tevinter."

"Only in Tevinter?"

"Touché. The point is, I am no official citizen of the Imperium. But I do have a place of apprentice with a Magister. Eventus is an old mage, second-zone Magister, who just loves to piss the Magisterium off. I saved him from a Qunari ambush few times after his former apprentice – elven too – died. He was impressed by my magic. Impressed enough to judge I would not be enslaved easily. But an elven arcane warrior…Quite a trophy, isn't it? So, if I could not be made slave, I could serve him as his apprentice." Leliana raised an amused brow.

"I understand better why we did not receive threats from Tevinter. The Magisterium was not particularly pleased, I imagine." Mahariel laughed.

"Not the slightest, their faces were priceless when he introduced me! It eventually subsided after some failed attempts on my life. Eventus' charge is not inherited and he is old: I would have been kicked out quickly enough if he was to die and, for the meantime, they hoped to get out of me the training of arcane warrior and his specificities as opposed to Knight Enchanter. You know Tevinter, just love to suck on elven magic."

"A lot of lucky coincidences made your stay in Tevinter possible." Commented Leliana with a knowing look. Mahariel smirked.

"You must have noticed how remarkable my timing always is. Anyway, if we are ready, can we gather the inner circle and be done with it?" Leliana raised an eyebrow. The elf was more unnerved that she was letting see about these stories to forget  _that_. She was about to scope out of the War Room when Leliana grabbed her elbow.

"I do not mean to intrude, but I believe you might want to talk with  _someone_ , before the meeting." Mahariel grew blank, eyes wide.  _Oh shit. Solas._ She chuckled, trying to sound light-hearted even if it sounded more nervous.

"Dahn Direlahn." She said to herself. "Thank you. This would have been awkward."  _Even more than it is going to. Hard to imagine._ Leliana tried to smile comfortingly.

"He will understand, Ariel." The white-hair swallowed and bit her bottom lip. She merely gave a nod at the spymaster before heading out of the war room.

She did not talk with him for three days, being quite busy with reports and everything. And still in need of processing what he told her. She peeked into the rotunda only to find no one. She took the stairs to the battlements. His room – finally existing – was in a tower, not far from the one Hawke had invested. She knocked. She heard an irritated grunt before his head appeared through a barely opened door. His features softened for her but he did not open more.

"Vhenan, I'm sorry, could you – "

He got interrupted by a lizard coming out of the room. Mahariel looked at it with raised eyebrows. What the –

"Sera." Declared she with a sigh, not bothering asking the question. She squatted in front of the animal and whispered "Garas alasnatha." The lizard tilted its little green head and took a step towards the hand she stretched to it. She chuckled as he climbed on it. "Vin, ara da'isenatha."

Solas looked at her, surprised. He could do that easily too, but it included wrapping himself with magic. Ancient magic. She had done it without that. The sight of her smiling earnestly at the little animal glancing happily at her was so endearing. He chuckled softly.

"I may actually use your help, you seem quite gifted with those." She turned back to him and shrugged.

"My father is a ranger. He taught me some little tricks."

He nodded, thoughtful about the capacities of rangers, certain it somehow had something magical about it. He let her in and she quickly ended up with three more lizards on her shoulders, standing proudly there. She finally released them on the battlements, asking them not to bother Solas again. She sat on the bed. They had been a welcome distraction but now…

"I actually had to talk to you."

"I'm listening."

She bit her bottom lip again, not sure how to begin. Her teeth dived enough to draw blood. She had to tell him more. But that part…She simply could not. Yet she had to…Leliana was right. She did not want to lose him and he deserved to know this…She stood up abruptly, unable to stay in place and took a deep breath as she began to pace up and down.

"Here is the thing: with the Ball coming, the Inquisition cannot avoid anymore to have an official version about me. And, considering my tattoos have been seen by all in Haven, a story to cover the why." He raised a brow.

"Don't we have a meeting in the late afternoon about that?"

"We have. But…Well…I…Prefer you hear some of this in…Private…Considering…" He closed the distance between them in a stride and put his hands on her shoulders to subside her. He smiled warmly.

"Whatever it is, don't be nervous to tell me, vhenan." She looked up at him and opened her mouth. And closed it. And opened it again until finally the words blurted out of their own will.

"It's an engagement tattoo." His hands dropped from her shoulders with surprise. She resumed quickly "The Crows' one. It's why I got one without being of the Guild…My betrothed was." He paused a second, not expecting that at all. His mind suddenly pieced together the words he heard from both Venicio and Ignacio and his eyes widened with disbelief.

" _Ashalan_ … _Murdered his son…_ You were betrothed to Venicio's son and you killed him." She closed her eyes and swallowed.

"Yes."

"Why?" Was all he could currently ask. She shook her head and sighed.

"It was in 9:38. I had been in Orlais for three years and I got few…Enemies. I was no official member of the Crows. Fellsathan admitted he was not sure the Guild would not turn against me. I was ready to flee, afraid my…Deeds would be held against the Dalish if I was to be discovered."

She paused and closed her eyes a sec before resuming, her voice hardly louder than a whisper.

"He said that he could protect me. I did not listen, I did not believe him. All I know was that, in the all guild, he was the only one who knew my name, my clan name…I freaked out. I did what I had to. Or what I  _thought_  I had too. Does not matter now."

Solas examined her face. The pain and the guilt were palpable. She bit her bottom lip yet again, metal taste of blood in her mouth. She looked down, once more scared of his reaction. He had to confess, he had mixed feelings right now. His voice was cold when he spoke up, staying few steps away.

"Do you regret it?"

"I don't know. I…I did not trust him, so…Yes, I regret, but not precisely the outcome. This was my mistake and he paid for it. I shall not have shared that much with him. I was careless."

"But you trusted that he had not share it with the rest of the Guild." Pointed he out.

"I told you, I freaked out. Yes, it does not make sense, but, ultimately, I was right on that." He frowned.

"Did you love him?" Her eyes widened, not ready at all for this question. She should have seen it coming. It was a fair question from him. She pressed her lips together, trying to prevent her eyes from welling up.

"I…I don't have any excuse for what I did, Solas. I used him for protection and when I did not trust him to provide me with that, I killed him. I will answer any questions you want but Venicio was right about me."

He frowned deeper.  _No, he was not. I saw her expression when she faced him, the endless pain of someone who did a mistake they cannot forgive themselves._  He was upset, however.  _You have no right to be, she killed one man who loved her to protect her People; you condemn all Elvhenan to protect yours. Halam'shivanas._ But for his brain understood, a part of him could not help but wonder. Would she be able of that with him too? How was it different now, did she trust him? She kept her eyes low and whispered.

"Ir abelas, vhenan'ara."

She was going to get out of his quarters, her eyes eventually filled with tears. She had never told this story and never thought she would. But she had to tell him, she wanted to tell him. He deserved the truth, even if it meant he will never look at her as he used to – He grabbed her wrist before she was out. She turned shyly her head, fearing to look into his eyes. He whispered back.

"Ma serannas, vhenan."

He was too unsettled to say more, but he wanted to say it at least.

He let his hand drop from her wrist and she took her leave. He closed his eyes, scolding himself for his feelings. How dared he be mad at her? She had kept it to herself, despite their relationship, but how dared him blame her for that? With all he was keeping from her despite their relationship? But yes, he wanted her to be honest, he wanted to know her, to comfort her for every mistake of her past…Even though he denied her the same meanwhile. His first thought had been that she was playing him, but he did not believe it. She always made her best not to lie to him, and only did if she was cornered.

She considered it as a regrettable mistake, the one of a younger elf. He could relate. She was not the same person anymore. Proof being, if she had been ready to do the same today, she would not have stand firmly and without hesitation to Ignacio when they caught him. She could as well have killed Sera, considering she knew too much.

No. He could not know what she was before Fellsathan, but he knew who she was now. If anything, she actually cared too much for her own well-being. He could not help but chuckle bitterly. Wisdom accused him gently of the same, once. Was his pride so high for him to fall for someone alike him in so many ways? She was ready to die to make her mistakes right…Before Haven, she had her own agenda, to walk the Din'anshiral to Antiva in order to do so. Just as he was planning. Except that  _his_  mistakes had shaped the whole world.

He could not help but let his thoughts wander to his own secrets. He wanted to tell her, so badly. But he was afraid. How many things could go wrong if she knew? How many of the few remaining Elvhen could be lost for his infatuation? He trusted her, but it was not enough. Not for that. Or he was a coward afraid to lose her if she knew and the only one he was protecting was himself. He winced at the thought. A possibility indeed. How much he wished Wisdom was still here, he could use a friend…

* * *

She did not attend the meeting. After all, her presence was not required and she could not bear looks of sympathy from the inner circle. They will figure out too quickly the truth in the story and she did not deserve the sympathy. But she could not bring herself to repeat the tale. The dates there, the contracts of the Crows…All the more things pointing to her true secret. The danger for the whole Inquisition in this piece of information was ever to be known…Damn, the Empress herself would ask for her head, Inquisitor or not.

She started at the knock on the door. It was late and she did not expect anyone. She wanted to be granted an evening of self-beating, was it too much to ask? Still, she raised her voice to let the trespasser in. She was confused to see Solas appear. She had a hard time looking at him in the eyes but she held his gaze as he nodded his greetings.

"Pardon the late hour, the meeting turned longer than I expected and I intended to talk to you." She gave a small smile which did not quite reach her eyes.

"I am relieved you even still talk to me." Solas' brows raised with surprise and he moved to sat in an empty chair.

"I reacted poorly earlier, vhenan. I was not prepared for such tale." She snorted woefully.

"Not my finest hours."

He considered her sadly for a second and gestured for her to come closer. She conformed. A faint giggle escaped her lips as he dragged her on his laps. It earned him a genuine small smile. He smirked in return, capturing her lips in a tender kiss before speaking again.

"We have all been young once, vhenan. You need to forgive yourself for you cannot change what you did."

" _I_ am still young." Retorted she with a hint of playfulness, though, her heart was not at it. She scanned his features a moment. "Did you? Forgive yourself?"

He held her gaze, only half-surprised that this should be her answer. He only remained silent for he did not want to lie to her. She did not know the extent of what he had done, how could he ever forgive himself for that? She sighed and rested her head in the crook of his neck. She kissed lightly his neck, feeling her question filled him with dark thoughts.

"Ir abelas. I did not mean to rub it in."

"I know, vhenan. And I see your point, this is easier to say than to do." He peered down at her, her breath warming his neck. "I did not. But circumstances make me think that perhaps I could. One day."

"Circumstances?"

He raised an amused brow at his  _circumstance_. It was true, he had been unable to forgive himself because he reduced this world to an army of tranquils, so far from what they could be. She was the very proof of how wrong he had been for thinking that. If only the situation of the People was not that bad…He could forgive himself, yes. She blushed slightly and smiled. Her voice dropped again in intensity.

"I never told anyone what happened."

"I cannot say I'm surprised." He pointed out just as low, stroking her hair.

She chuckled faintly, huddling against his chest. She felt her eyelids getting heavy under his gentle touch. She had been so worried of what he could think now, tiredness fell upon her when he put her mind at ease. She yawned softly. He hesitated for a minute as she did not seem to be willing to move. But she was obviously tired and so, he reached for her chin.

"Hamin, vhenan. We shall talk tomorrow." She opened her mouth, intending to say something. She quickly shut it again, teeth trapping her bottom lip. She finally settled for a nod and something safer.

"Ma serannas." He raised a brow.

"For what?"

"Understanding. Again."

She paused and her eyes flicked open as she realized she had not tell him about Tevinter before the meeting. Obviously, Leliana did not intend to share this part but, if even one person in Skyhold knew – make that two with Dorian – if this was to leak…She did not want him to hear these stories from any mouth but hers.

"Solas, there is something else…"  _A lot of something else._ He tilted his head to lock her gaze, feeling her tension coming back.

"Something you are afraid to tell me too."

"Not for the same reasons." She said quickly. "This is about Tevinter."

"Oh." He gave as a mere answer. So, she would tell him after all. "Ara lath, we can talk about it now, but I would prefer for you to take some rest first." His hands slid on her shoulders, squeezing gently. "I wish you would stop being afraid of my reactions."

True enough, he did not want her to worry. It did not mean he was not curious. His investigations had cleared much, but one mystery remained: how did she end up playing undercover agent for the Qun? She bit the inside of her cheek.

"Can we meet in the Fade? Can we talk there?"

He smiled. How willing she was to accept these meetings was remarkable. He leaned in closer to her ear.

" _Sleep."_

They talked in length about her life in Tevinter once they were in the Fade. She remained rather vague, for she only explained that she ran into a group of Qunari while fleeing, as she mentioned earlier, Orlais to escape the Crows. It was in the plain of Ghislain and, seeing she did some serious damages to the Ben-Hassraths despite her being highly outnumbered, Salit thought she could be useful to replace their now dead elven scouts. She accepted the recognition mission, thinking that her days were counted with the Guild after her. At least, if she was to be discovered, the consequences would then be paid by Par Vollen instead of the People. Not her most well-thought plan, but she took what was offered as better than no plan at all. The recognition mission eventually turned out to be longer than expected. She said that it gave her chances to do some good there, but did not elaborate.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dahn Direlahn – Idiot
> 
> Garas alasnatha – Come, lizard
> 
> Vin, ara da'isenatha – Good, little dragon
> 
> Hamin – rest
> 
> Halam'shivanas – sacrifice of duty
> 
> Din'anshiral – path of death
> 
> Vhenan'ara – desire of my heart


	30. Second Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Well, time for Command to come back on the picture. Additional translations in the end notes.

 

* * *

Mahariel opened her eyes in the Fade and looked around. It was the night after the one when she met Solas. Her surroundings did look like the Dales but something was utterly different. Everything looked…More. Surreal. The grass was greener, the flower more colorful. She narrowed her eyes at the peculiar silver vine running on a trunk.  _Oh. So, if I'm not misled…_

"Inquisitor." She turned around to face the blond woman.

"Command. You did not come in a while, any problem?" Concern tainted her voice. Command shook her head.

"No. I have been careful enough. I could not reach for you too eagerly, some might be intrigued by my sudden interest in mortal." Mahariel looked around and commented.

"Is it the Dales?"

"In a way." Mahariel raised a brow.

"Elvhenan-old way?" Command smirked.

"You catch up quickly."

Mahariel sauntered around, astounded again. This was almost too much to get to walk in the memory of the Elvhen Glory. She could not get to find them by herself and, whatever Command was actually trying to tell her, she was grateful in an endless extent for that.

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Which one it is, I wonder?"

"More riddles?" Command chuckled.

"I practiced."

Mahariel was a bit confused. Her thoughts did wander towards the previous riddles – she had written them in a cipher and hid them in both her quarters and her pack – added this one…She was quite certain, this was a warning. And the fact that the spirit could not talk freely confirmed the idea of danger. And yet, Command seemed quite light-hearted. Maybe because it did not care, but if so, why bother coming? She did not see why the spirit would be playing with her.

"You are in command, you need the knowledge. What is to be done with it is none of my resort. Things are unclear. I'm telling you to be on your guards and I want you to be one step ahead if things shall turn poorly. I shall not lead you to paranoia. Paranoia is no leader's friend." Mahariel considered the words and nodded.

"I see your point. So, why are we here?"

"I shaped it but it's no more mine than before."

Command gave her its elbow. Mahariel took it as they began to walk into the woods. Mahariel was looking everywhere, dazzled by everything. Her thoughts wandered towards Solas. She was certain he had seen such memories and way more. No wonder how woeful he seemed when they were talking of Elvhenan. Picturing it was a thing, but seeing, touching what had been lost…Command was eyeing her with a look she could not quite place. Well, it was Command after all. Probably some thoughts about what was a good leader was declaring how unwise her entanglement was.

They stopped when they heard a mad cackling nearby, followed by a menacing low growl. Her ears located quickly the direction. She forced Command into a jog. The spirit scoffed with disbelief.

The voices were a bit clearer this time. Still indistinct, but she made out the cackling was from a woman voice and the growl from a man. No specific timber. She froze as soon as she was able to see the scene. It was no shadow this time. The features of both were impossible to deduce, as if a huge blur was standing instead of their faces, but she could acknowledge a tall Elvhen woman with long ash-blonde hair, somehow looking like the current form of Command. The lines of her armor were blurry, but the color was definitely gold, as the bow she was holding. The man facing her was attached to a tree. By his position, it was easy guess he was wounded. The side of his skull were shaved as long brown-copper hair were covered by…Something white? A crown? A…Skull of some animal? Forgetting it was a memory and that she could not be seen, she hid behind a trunk. She listened cautiously, trying to make out the too quick elvhen she half understood.

"Ghi'myas ara halla'en, Fen! -?- na'mis!" The cackles grew even louder. The menacing grunt answered before actual words in which a disdainful smirk was perfectly audible.

"Tela -?" Whatever he said seemed to piss her off in quite the extent.

"THU GYA'MA?!" She slapped him fiercely.

Mahariel was staring at the scene, mouth ajar. Was it…Were they…Why the…She had no time to think further as a black figure suddenly swooped in, voice sickening and dark.

"Andruil, Fen'harel ise emma."

"Ar ryemah banalasa, Anaris." Came the intervention of the prisoner in which the smirk was still too audible.

The woman stood face to the cloaked form, yelling something Mahariel did not catch at all. The argument which began was a huge blur of elvhen. Not that she really needed the words, she knew what she was witnessing. Not a memory, a story…An old tale. The scene went on, the argument quickly turning to a fight. As expected, the prisoner helped the cloaked form, pointing to a weakness in the woman's armor. The female elf sent an arrow in its back after he attacked the tied one. Both lied unconscious on the ground while the prisoner escaped. His chuckle resounded long in her ears after the scene was over. For a reason she could not quite place, considering the lack of distinct timber in the eerie voices. She did not really focus on that, however, processing hard.  _I actually just saw the tale of Fen'harel and the Tree. I actually saw and heard Andruil, Fen'harel and Anaris. And Andruil actually sounded like a mad woman harassing sexually the Dread Wolf._  She was skeptical. She did not hear or think of this tale for some times. How did they –

"We are not in a place  _you_ shaped, Inquisitor. This area of the Fade is not influenced by you."

"Are we in someone's dream?"

"No. We are in someone's memory. If it was a dream, the person will know we are here."

"A Dalish? It is the vision a Dalish gave to the tale?"

Command raised an eyebrow. The Inquisitor was no stupid and usually quick-minded. She did  _not_  want to understand. Command did not understand why, however.

"You refuse to understand what I am saying. Why?" Mahariel paused.  _Why? Because this is insane!_

"I…I thought what we saw in Skyhold was anchored into the  _place_! Not in someone's mind! Don't you see  _why_  I cannot understand?! You are telling me someone  _present_  during these scenes is actually somewhere and, for what I gather, I may as well know this someone!" Command tilted her head, trying to understand the reaction of the mortal. She simply pointed out.

"Inquisitor, a leader has to be strong. Keep your voice down, you cannot lose control  _here_." Mahariel's features hardened as soon as she heard the warning. She ignored the patronizing tone. She deserved it. She took a deep breath. Her thoughts were rushing but she tried for her voice to be even.

"Move us if you must but I'm not letting  _that_  go." Command straightened suddenly and her eyes widened with fear.

"Too late, he knows someone is here." She grabbed Mahariel's wrist. "I can't move us, but you can. Use the mark!"

"What?! I'm not going to do a fucking hole in someone's head!" Command looked around and her teeth gritted. Damn mortals.

"It won't hurt  _him_."

"What do you mean not  _him_?!" A wolf howled suddenly. It was the only clear sound Mahariel had heard here. Command acted before she had time to put two and two together. It forced her palm open.

"I  _command_ you, take us back in her realm."

The rift snapped open in front of them and Command pulled Mahariel through it roughly. The Inquisitor stumbled on the uneven ground of an indistinct place. She took her hand back from Command who seemed suddenly exhausted.

"How did…Fenedhis, is actually anyone able to use the Anchor on  _my_ hand?!"

"No. But I am Command, I wielded it to my own will. Won't be doing that any soon again, hopefully. Your will is incredibly strong, Inquisitor." She snorted.

"Not enough, obviously!" She paused and considered Command. "You were afraid, why?"

"I don't know him. I cannot see through him. We once had something in common but he outpowers me. Even without all his strength. Without a clear access, I only have the whispers of the Fade. Sometimes I see a betrayer who doomed his people, sometimes I see a man who cares too much and is ready to do anything to protect and save them. Both are dangerous enough."

Mahariel frowned, considering her words. The scene they saw…The persons present…The only clear sound, a wolf's howl…A betrayer…She froze, mouth ajar.

"WE TRESPASSED IN THE – " She stopped her words herself, considering yelling that was no good idea. She pinched her lips together and tried to gain back some calm. She took a deep breath and looked for a clear paraphrase. She swallowed hard and barely whispered. "He Who Hunts Alone?"

Command gave a single nod. Thoughts hurried into Mahariel's head, processing hardly the implication and somehow hoping the spirit was messing with her. The spirit heard it all but seemed pleased by the declaration which finally came out loud, somehow calmly.

"I do not know him."

"He certainly knows you." Mahariel frowned but eventually settled for a nervous snort.

"Great, another one who knows me…Should I send him some pastries?"

"You are not afraid." Pointed Command out. Mahariel laughed nervously.

"Right now, a bit actually. I cannot say I'm at ease with pissing him off by entering his head."

Command tilted her head, trying to figure out the elf. How peculiar were these being. Mahariel was pacing up and down, taking some deep breathes, obviously still not able to process fully. They had trespassed into the Dread Wolf's memories. So, first, he was actually somewhere to be found. And apparently, she actually had his interest in some way.  _Do you ever realize how crazy you sound?! And, so what?! The gaze of the Dread Wolf's is actually on me?! Why?! Don't tell me_ he _bought these Dalish craps! No, this is just not possible._

"Only highly unlikely. And for the  _dalish craps_  you are referring to, this is coincidence. Or irony, I imagine you would call it."

Mahariel turned back to Command with a start, having almost forgot she was not alone. She shook her head to chase her messy thoughts.  _Okay…Let's try to be pragmatic one second_.

"What does he want?" Command shrugged.

"I cannot tell. As I said, I cannot read him, I'm outpowered."

"Is he…Is he even beyond the Veil?" Command seemed to consider the question a time.

"It is hard to say with the rifts and the weakened Veil. I'm unsure. I recognize him in your shadow, though, vessels are but an illusion. You see me in a way that is easier for you and I see clearly your vessel because of the Anchor. You exist in both. The others are not the same. They are…Blurry. I saw a wolf behind you, but was he actually or did I see him because the Veil was thin…I cannot say."

"A wolf? Like an actual wolf?"

"I saw his form of command. I cannot say if you would see the same if you were to face him."  _Well, that does not help._

"So, to be clear, you cannot tell me what he looks like, on which side of the Veil he is, nor what he wants?" Command looked apologetic.

"For what it's worth, I did not sense threat towards the chain of command. I don't think he means  _you_  harm. He seems interested in you in a way I cannot place. Which seems beyond his Anchor."

" _His?_ " Command frowned.

"You know the rifts and Breach have been caused by an elven focus, to which your Anchor is somehow tied."

"Foci which were wielded by members of our Pantheons…So it was his. At least, it does explain why he would be mingling with mortal business. He is likely pissed at Corypheus for using his orb."

"It is an explanation worth another. But as I said, his interest seems beyond that. Any idea why?" Mahariel shrugged.

"I don't hate him. This is rare for an elf these days. Maybe is it as simple as that." Command tilted her head, with what seemed genuine interest, in a way she saw Cole do too.

"Don't your initial chain of command ask of you that you do?"

"A chain of command can dictate your deeds and words, but not your feelings, lethallan. I shall not hate someone without hearing his side of the story."

"Yet, you are afraid of some others you never heard the side either."

"Yes, I am. The Forgotten Ones are…Creepy. And my opinion about him have not always been that. I used to despise and fear him to. But I got reasons to question this judgement. One quickly forget he was first God of Rebellion or that his dedicated title of harellan is a recent word which comes from one meaning noble struggle. And for each story we have about him, he is never black or white. He is in grey area. If studies pointed me this direction, I won't be opposed to see my feelings towards the Forgotten Ones change. I just never found reasons to reconsider them." Command nodded, thoughtful.

"You did not ignore the chain of command, but you did not follow it blindly. You are an interesting being, Inquisitor. I consider my debt is paid, but maybe can we meet again anyway."

Mahariel smiled and nodded. The spirit could be smug, but it was nice. Command finally took its leave, deciding the elf needed the end of the night to herself, to think about it all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ghi'myas ara halla'en, Fen! - you went after my halla, wolf
> 
> THU GYA'MA?! – How dare you
> 
> Andruil, Fen'harel ise emma. – Andruil, Fen'harel is mine
> 
> Ar ryemah banalasa, Anaris. – I must refuse, Anaris.


	31. Busy Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Tell me your thoughts!
> 
> Just letting you know, I might be late for the next update, I have few things to figure out before it and lacking time to do so.

 

* * *

They were to leave for Halamshiral in two weeks. Fourteen full days left for Josephine and Vivienne to talk everyone into not beginning a war as soon as they arrived.

She had hardly caught a lot of free time during the last weeks. She found some times with her friends anyway. Solas had been a little tensed for some unknown reason the days following their last talk.

She went back into her quarters after an endless meeting, hoping to take some fresh air on the balcony before the next one. She leaned with a smile against the wall. Solas was there, reading. He sat at the table, his back towards her. She looked at him for few moments.

She sauntered to the table and took the seat face to him. They didn't exchange a word, enjoying the comfortable silence. She poured some tea into a mug. She felt the boiling water cooling down to the perfect heat just before touching her lips. He didn't move his sight from the book. She smiled slightly. He finished his page before finally speaking.

"I hope you do not mind my trespassing, vhenan. Your Tevinter was driving me crazy and I remembered your offer of coming here when such was the case. If I bother, just say the word and I leave you alone." She shook her head.

"Nonsense." He smirked, looking up to meet her gaze.

"Good."

She ended her tea and stood, playing with a loose strand of hair as she looked elsewhere. She had few things to do before the meeting. Consulting reports for once…Her eyes laid on the ballgown resting on a dummy next to her dresser.

She winced and suppressed a sigh, as each time she remembered the existence of the damn thing. The ebony dress was stunning, a finery of Orlesian fashion. The silver thread lining the low cleavage, letting her shoulders and neck gracefully nude. The silver patterns around the neck line, enlightening her breasts. The top was tight to highlight her thin waist. The sleeves were partly opened and completed by fingerless silk gloves. A line of black lace was coming down in the middle of the chest.

She had yelled at Josie for this detail. The thing was revealing enough as it was! But no, except for Celene herself, she had to be the most breathtaking. The dress itself was a piece of the Game and, considering her Dalish origins working against her, she had to play perfectly. The bottom was typical of a ballgown, large with plenty silver details on it. It was supported by a metal shape as well as several petticoats. The Ambassador wanted her hair to be seen and had found a half silver mask reminding of the Dalish heraldic. Josie had been playing with her origins, finding little tricks to keep them visible – Maybe was it more her ears than her hair that she wanted to be seen. This was important to show the Inquisition had no shame in her being elven. Even if it was obvious she was planning on a good dose of make-up to hide any tattoo which were no vallaslin.

How muttered as her sigh was, Solas somehow felt her annoyance. He dropped his book and came behind her, wrapping gently his arms around her waist.

"I am no expert when it comes to Orlesian fashion, but I can say you will leave the Winter Palace speechless. What is wrong, vhenan?"

"We are expecting troubles and I weirdly happen to have a hard time picturing myself fighting in  _this._  Do you think our foes will be kind enough to let me time to put on an armor…Orlesians you know, could work." He chuckled.

"Don't you worry, they will be distracted enough by your sight for you not to need an armor." She giggled.

"I will take your word on that. Josie said it could be possible to part the top and the bottom. With some trousers under it, I could at least gain mobility even if it would hardly be an armor…Leave the issue of the staff…" She resumed, thoughtful about logistic. He nodded.

"The weapons risk to be our major issue. I guess the spymaster have some thoughts about it?" She winced.

"Yep, given we convince Varric to let some spy carry Bianca. For now, he still plans to put her under his formal attire and doesn't care about how ridiculous it would look." She felt a quiver running down her spine as his mouth brushed her neck. She spun towards him.

"Don't you dare leave another bruise. Josie is going to kill me if I leave it for the whole Winter Palace to see!"

She pointed the cleavage of the dress with her finger. He looked at it and finally nodded. He smirked playfully and took back his hands, pretending to go back to his book. She stared at him with disbelief a second before grabbing his arm to pull him back to her.

"I mentioned only the neck." Clarified she with mischief.

She reached his lips boldly. He smiled against her mouth and drove her in a tight embrace. She put her arms on his shoulders and soon around his neck. He tilted her backward, his hand finding the small of her back to support her. Her tongue grew sinful as she felt his touch on top of her cheeks. She leaned more into the kiss, tongue meeting his roughly and teasing his mouth.

They reveled in the hot sensation of their magic melting into each other, heady, passionate. He finally straightened with the intent of breaking the embrace but her arms remained around his neck so well that he unwillingly lifted her. She knotted her legs around his waist and stared at his eyes, pupils gleaming with mischief. He moved one hand under her as he kept the other one on her back to hold her up. She tantalized even more, pressing her body against his. He muttered a grunt, feeling lust and heat growing in him. He smirked as his pupils expanded. His voice was husky when it came out.

"Fair warning: if you want to avoid bruises, you might have to let me go, ara lath." She smirked back, leaning closer to his ear. She purred.

"I'm sure they won't be half as mad if the bruises are on you…Or…"She paused enjoying the feeling of his heartbeat speeding up against her breasts. She slowed steamily her voices "...You will have to be more creative."

She let her tongue linger on his earlobe. He breathed heavily few secs before finally resuming his smirk, ignoring temporarily his own excitation. He took a strand of her hair between his fingers to judge their length. Satisfied, he let go of it and gazed for few seconds at her eyes with a hungry gaze which made her skin on fire. He finally swiped the hair out of his way and pressed harshly his mouth behind her ear. She gasped, feeling him hotly sucking her skin, tremors of pleasure taking her neck. His tongue followed the frame of her ear slowly before his teeth titillated her earlobe deviously. She poorly muttered a moan. She felt his mouth moving into a self-satisfied smile. He moved with her around his waist. He settled her on the table to regain mobility with his hands. Hers slipped under his cotton tunic. Her fingers ran around the muscles of his chest and back. They dawdled above his belt, teasing. She let once or twice one of them linger barely under the top of his trousers, provoking grunt of eagerness. The apprentice coat she wore as a casual outfit was already on the ground and her black tunic was going to join it when they jumped as a energic knock resounded.

"INQUISITOR! WAR ROOM IN FIVE!" Cassandra yelled. He frowned with frustration as she growled.

"Fasta vass." She blew on a strand falling across her face with a pout. He couldn't help his chuckle. A pouting Mahariel was not a sight one got to see every day, but she was wonderfully cute with this scowl. He reached the hair and gently stroked them behind her ear as he pointed out.

"It had been long since I heard you use Tevene."

"That's on Hawke, she has been saying Tevene curses so much last time I saw her, it's coming back…And you got to admit, Tevene sounds damn good when it comes to curses." She paused, thoughtful. "I think this is related to him, he used to live in Tevinter so maybe saying them make her feel closer…I don't know if you've ever see her sad eyes when she looks at this red ribbon on her wrist and thinks no one is watching…She misses him." Her eyes lightened and she suddenly asked. "Could she see him in the Fade?"

Solas did speak with the Champion – he was curious about the woman…If even a third of Varric's stories about her were true, she was a powerful mage. And, despite everything, she had not hesitated to come and helped. This was something he respected. Still, they did not speak of personal matters and he felt a bit at lost.

"Who?"

"Fenris! She is a mage, maybe she could see him in the Fade! My ability to walk the Fade comes from the Anchor but you can walk it too without any weird-old-elven-glowing mark." He shook his head after few secs.

"Walking the Fade is no easy task. Some mages are simply not able to do it, even with years of training. Wouldn't it be simpler to make this Fenris come to Skyhold?" Her nose wrinkled.

"She refused. She said he would give his life for her and she would not give him this chance."

"I'm surprised it stopped you."

"Oh, it didn't." She replied with an evil smirk which made him chuckled. "Enough on this, better discussed with Varric after the meeting."

She smiled and kissed him. He grinned tenderly and nodded, before putting her back on the ground. They both hesitated a bit as they were almost back in an embrace but she finally wielded her will to step aside and check herself in the mirror. He picked up her jacket and put it on her shoulders. She smiled softly before heading to the stairs as he went back to the table.

Once she was gone, he let his thoughts run freely. If it wasn't for Cassandra's intervention…He had to be careful. This was not the first time he found himself overwhelmed by his passion, lust, love for her and…Going this path, he knew at some point no one would show up and he didn't know if he would be able to stop himself from –  _You cannot do that. You will not lay with her under false pretenses, no matter your – or her – urges to do so. She is different and may understand but until she knows…You simply cannot. This would not be right by her._ He reasoned himself, for once, all his thoughts on one voice. He loved her and respected her. This was no harmless sex, there was more to it, and he just couldn't do that with a woman he loved if she didn't know half the truth about him. Still, he wasn't ready to tell her. The more he spent time with her, the more he thought it could work. She was no mindless Dalish, believing any tale her Keeper could have told. She had a wonderful spirit and wisdom. She could understand. Still, he couldn't take any chances. When the time was right, he would tell her, but it was not now. So, he had to keep his desire for her in check…Harder, keep  _her_  desire for him in check. Any physical urge he had, he could manage. But knowing she wanted him, feeling her body pressing for more…This was intoxicating, overwhelming. He sighed. Remaining in her quarters would be unwise to say the least.

Despite – or because of – the endless teasing of the others, Mahariel and Solas had decided in an untold agreement to keep their relationship low-key. More than one had suspicions, but no one actually caught any glimpse proving them right. It had been made clear the Spymaster knew, but she had apparently decided to respect their wish. For now.

"Considering the Inquisitor got distracted during the break, let us repeat the main points before we begin."

When she heard Leliana's full of innuendos voice addressing her even before she crossed the doorstep, Mahariel almost plough into a wall at her wink and tone. She seriously considered spinning on her heels right away to flee the redhead. She turned crimson as her mouth gaped, her eyes wide and pleading for her to shut up. Leliana giggled happily at the effect. Mahariel – kind of – composed herself, only to growl.

"If I'd known escaping ONCE through the balcony would bring so much damn spies near my window – "

"You'd have done it anyway." Interrupted Leliana with a knowing smile. Mahariel glared at her with daggers in her eyes. "And besides,  _once_?"

The elf shrugged with a  _had-to-try_  look, quickly going back to her mask. Well, she did  _mostly_ respect their wish for privacy.

* * *

After the meeting, Leliana asked Mahariel for a word. She waited for Cullen and Josephine to leave the room and for the door to close before looking at her.

"If this is a blackmail attempt, Nightingale –" The laughter interrupted her line.

"Chase the thought, I'm not at all eager to share your secrets. This is so much funnier to see you turn red and plough into walls…. Wonder of wonder, would this work on our other aloof apostate…"

Mahariel cleared her throat, as much because she wanted her to shut up as because she wanted to know the matter. Leliana nodded and resumed.

"I wanted to talk to you about the Grey Wardens. I thought about something, considering you already said you wanted to save the Order. Considering what you learn in the Western Approach, I'm afraid good intentions won't be enough. If we are to avoid a bloodshed, we need to legitimate our assault." Mahariel frowned.

"This is why we have Stroud isn't it?"

"Indeed, but I may have a way to provide you…more convincing people. Given you are willing to modify your regular escort."

"I'm listening." Leliana, despite their loneliness, looked around, awaking even more suspicion in Mahariel.

"This is…Complicated. That's partially why I wanted to talk about it without the others."

"I thought it was because Josie was going to snap if you mentioned anything else than Halamshiral." Leliana half-smiled.

"That as well." Mahariel sighted. She knew the spymaster had contacts – or used to – among the Grey Warden, given her help during the fifth Blight. Still, she wasn't fully at ease with those poor hints of information. If she was talking about who she thought…This was messed-up. And risky.

"Can you at least tell me which kind of weapons these  _convincing people_  carry? I would like to know if we will have a kind of balance, especially considering Hawke and Stroud will be with me as well." She nodded, appreciative of her tactical concern.

"A rogue, carrying daggers and bow, and a warrior. One handed sword, shield. By the way, Stroud contacted me this morning. He is bringing a mage as well." Mahariel's nose wrinkled.

"So, three mages will be the front line…" Her eyes were dark, as she remembered the ritual they witnessed. This was no good. Even if the mages weren't Grey Warden, the threat of demons was going to be lingering in every corner during the assault. She looked up at Leliana.

"Do we have trusted templars? I guess Cassandra can keep an eye but we are already almost too much in the  _escort_  as you called it, and we need to move quickly –"

"Why do you ask?"

"Let me sum it up. We are going to be six. Four Grey Wardens I guess? Your convincing people bear likely the taint, or I really have no clue why they are legit. Stroud is likely coming with a fellow Warden as well, who is a mage. And the two left are Hawke and I, both mages. Normally, I would be at ease but considering the situation, this configuration is as dangerous as it is needed if we are to save the Order. So, do we have enough trusted templars who can act quickly if the situation gets out of control?"

Leliana supported her serious look, not liking what she was implying. Still, she sighed. She had a point. None of them wanted to imagine Hawke, her or the Wardens on their side claimed by the insanity. Still, between the demons, blood magic, possession, Calling…

"I will see to it with Cullen, make sure there will be templars presents for the assault." Mahariel nodded before commenting with more lightness.

"So, here is my  _escort_. I hope Blackwall won't be disappointed…I guess he will understand."

"He was not the disappointed one I had in mind." Pointed out Leliana. Mahariel winced.

"Taking  _him_  when we want to save the Order? Each time I would play diplomat, he would insult them. And eventually we will end up arguing in the middle of this mess. Not the best way to avoid bloodshed!"

"Fair point. One last thing. I discussed with Cullen. If you agree, we were considering going to Adamant right after Halamshiral. Stroud's letter was unnerving, there is no time to waste. My scouts can take care of providing you anything you need on the road so we do not need to return to Skyhold."

"Good idea, I would hate saving Orlais to find out once in Skyhold a demon army is marching through the Empire. You can confirm it with the Commander, Stroud and…Er, whoever you are planning to tag along."

"Consider it done, Inquisitor. I'll let you know if anything requires your attention. Enjoy your evening." Mahariel rolled her eyes when she winked on the last part.  _This is going to grow tiresome soon enough_. _Wait, already has._

She watched the spymaster leaving the room, thinking about their discussion and processing the information before walking out too.

She remembered she wanted to see Varric. She found him at his table in the main hall. Without Hawke. It suited her but remained surprising.

"Varric, where is Hawke?" He suppressed a sigh before standing up to face her, concern on his face.

"Probably the tavern. I shouldn't be one to chastise about drinking habit but –"

"She has been drinking. A lot." Mahariel interrupted and confirmed. "I noticed. She could use some cheering up if only she would admit something was wrong."

"Agreed, drowning it in ale won't do any good." He shook his head. "Elie is…Well, you spent time with her. She acts just like you – hero thing I guess, always smiling and joking even if she has the weight of the world on her shoulders. You know what happened in Kirkwall. When Blondie blew up the Chantry, it broke something in her. Made her feel helpless to save the people and her own closed ones." She nodded, ignoring the part he called her a hero even though her nose wrinkled a bit.

"This is why she came here alone, isn't it? Because she thought it was her burden, that Corypheus was her mess and she didn't want to put anyone else in danger. She thinks this is her mistake to fix."

"I knew you'll get her quick. But she misses them. Sunshine, Aveline,…Broody most of all."

He huffed ruefully. He couldn't get the truth out of Hawke about him, why he was not here. So, of course, he was convinced she had done something incredibly stupid. It had to be incredibly stupid if she could not even tell him…

"Funny story about these two. I bet you noticed her red ribbon. Years ago, back in Kirkwall, he pulled her away after…Well, let's say when he did, they were already deep in it. This is when he began to wear one. We noticed immediately, Hawke the first, this red ribbon which had suddenly appeared on his wrist, as well as a little reproduction of her family heraldry hanging on his belt. He probably thought it will go unnoticed under his black coat, I don't know…Anyway, she never put words on it, but I will always remember the hope popping up alongside the pain in her eyes when she saw it. This is what made her believe he would come back to her, it was an untold promise that he will. This is how their relationship survive for a long-time, without ever mentioning what happened. This is why she wears it now, as a promise they won't be kept apart, that she will find her way back to him. She needs it. She has lost too much people, she is constantly afraid for him." She was listening to his words, eyes wide-opened as her face dropped.

"You harellan, you said funny! This is all but funny, this is fucking heartbreaking!" He half-smiled and teased without heart in it.

"Careful Grey, people could think you actually have a heart when you say such think." She straightened a bit, eyes unreadable. "Arr, never mind. You probably didn't come here to hear me worry about her." A sparkle of mischief jumped in her pupils.

"Actually, this is half-true. If I recall,  _he_  does not know where she is but himself is somewhere in north Orlais?"

"Something like that, Leliana would know better. Hawke asked her to keep an eye on him." He spotted a smirk "What do you have in mind?"

"What do you think of adding one elven servant to the Inquisition for the ball?"

"First, I think you better explain yourself pretty good for him not to rip your heart out for calling him servant." He laughed excitedly. "Second, dammit I'm in, Grey! C'mon, let's find Nightingale!"

* * *

Varric and Mahariel slammed fiercely the door of the rotunda with the firm intention of rushing to the top of the tower. Solas, back from her quarters, raised an eyebrow when he heard the row. He wasn't the slightest surprised to find a white-hair storm at its source.

"Told you I didn't!" She commented cryptically for anyone but him when her eyes laid on him. He smiled with affection.

They did not ease their pace before reaching Leliana, drawing the attention of everyone in the library on their way up.

"'LIA!" She exclaimed eagerly. The other woman looked at her with a little laughter.

"Inquisitor, Varric, do I really want to know what  _this_ is about?"

They both found their breath and explained their thoughts to the redhead. She found herself laughing even more.

"You are both incurable!" She lowered her voice and leaned slightly towards Mahariel. "I did not think you had a soft spot for romantic fairytale rendezvous, my Lady Herald."

Mahariel faked annoyance, all too satisfied by their plan to consider the teasing. Leliana hummed, thoughtful.

"Obviously, Josie cannot hear about this, she would kill us to even consider – "

"Us?" Interrupted Varric and Mahariel in one full-of-hope voice. Leliana smiled.

"I'll see what I can do. Varric, are you sure Hawke won't kill us, by the way? She seemed pretty determined to keep him away."

"You met both of them, Nightingale. She will kill us  _if_  she learns we are planning something. Once she faces him, she will snatch him in a heartbeat! No time for murder!"

"Fair point. So, a private place, I take it?"

"Oh, I don't know, they could be a perfect distraction for the fights. Better than me stripping off my dress." Mahariel commented with a laugh, picturing both scene.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

The three of them stopped talking, Mahariel turning crimson horrifyingly swiftly. Solas had barely mumbled the words from the rotunda, busy with his book. How did they – Dammit, how much did this place resonate?! Well, enough to hear them in a first place, clearly. Varric couldn't take it, his face as red as Mahariel's for another reason. He burst into laughter, wiping a tear from his eyes. Even if subtler, Leliana's reaction was pretty much alike. As well as Dorian's under them. The dwarf tilted over the guardrail.

"That was RICH, Chuckles!"

Dorian's head emerged from the second floor to look at Mahariel.

"My my, I didn't think it was possible to reach such shade of red."

Her eyes suddenly widened even more as a thought popped in her head. When they were in the…Oh Creators, and the weird way he reacted to Josephine's questions…Oh crap. But that was months ago…Why didn't he… _Waiting for exactly THIS._  She managed to become even redder as she babbled.

"Wait, has it… _always_ …resonated that much?" A huge beam took Dorian's feature as he winked.

"Do not worry. One needs to  _really_  pay attention to hear the stairwell."

Varric took several seconds to understand. He looked at both Leliana and Dorian, in mirth. Then at Mahariel and Solas, starring at each other, eyes wide-opened, lips slightly parted, the first one reaching scarlet…And he could even spot a blush on Solas' cheeks and ears as well. His mouth formed a O as he clapped his hands.

"NO! NO WAY! Oh, I thought his comment was rich but…This day is going better and better!" Both elves tried to compose themselves. Mahariel did a vain attempt to change subject.

"So, Hawke, Fenris, is it settled?"

"Funny thing, I had the same question for you two!" Varric replied, leading to more laughter. Mahariel's finger pinched the bridge of her nose, as much to cover her red face as by annoyance.

"Poor choice of words." Under them, Solas sighed and offered.

"I doubt a good one existed in this particular situation." Varric's voice rose once more.

"Wait a sec, you mean Hawke was right that day about the – Shit, I just lost a bet!" Mahariel spun to Varric but stop the words from crossing her lips.  _Bad idea, going to make it worst._

"Bet over what?!" Of course, Dorian just had to ask, however.

Cassandra chose that moment to enter the rotunda.

"Inquisitor, here you are! If I may have a – "

"GLADLY!" Mahariel interrupted.

She jumped carelessly over the guardrail and hang herself to reach the second floor before jumping once more and hanging herself with the firm intent to reach the first in record time without even a glance at Dorian next to her. He commented.

"Wow, she is eager to get out."

She ignored and let herself fall from the guardrail. She was about to land nimbly when Solas' arms caught firmly her waist to put her safely on the ground. She chuckled with despair.

"Ma tel'halani, vhenan'ara."  _Not helping._

"Nor would a broken leg." He pointed out with half a smirk. She smiled.

"Ir abelas, duty calls. I have to leave you to…Them." She spat the last word, glaring towards the upper levels.

"I can manage, vhenan. Dareth shiral."

"Dareth shiral." She nodded before heading out of the rotunda with a skeptical Cassandra. Once she was out of sight, his nose wrinkled as he looked up to the whistles.

"This was so cute!" Dorian declared before he spun back to Varric "Bet over WHAT dwarf?!"

_Maybe the retreat was the best move, considering…_


	32. Panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's obviously the point where I'm going to grow erratic in my updates. *facepalm* My muse has been stuck in AUs as of late, need to bring it back to Mahariel's canon story. Anyway, hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!
> 
> Additional translations in the end notes.

 

* * *

Mahariel was standing on her balcony, panting. With the approach of the Ball, her nightmares had come back in a rush. There was too much at stake…

_Breach swallowing the world. Red everywhere. Dead. Corpses. NO._

She tried to shake the visions out of her head. She couldn't even remember how she managed to slip out of her bed to get fresh air. Her eyes were blurry, her head was spinning. She was dangerously tilted over the guardrail, unable to stand by herself. Her nails were biting the skin of her arms, not even realizing they had already torn her sleeves. She tried to compose herself, to take a deep breath but failed, her lungs running out of air, her throat tight.

_Red. You are nothing but a mistake. A gnat. A thief. Harellan. You could save no one then, how could you now? Everything will turn red because you are helpless. You couldn't even close the Breach._

She gasped as the faces of her companions in the future she saw in Redcliffe jumped in front of her eyes. Of her sister. Of Solas.  _No, this is not real._  But she was out of air, her mind all but clear. She was struggling to find a breath.

Three scouts were on guard under the balcony of her quarters that night. When they saw her stumbling out, on edge. One of them left to grab the spymaster, not sure of what to do. When she suddenly disappeared from their sight. She had triggered her ring unwillingly and was absolutely in no state to be aware of it.

"Dammit." growled one of the scout "What is she doing?!"

"Sister Nightingale or the Inquisitor?"

"Have an answer for any of them?!"

The other one shook his head, defeated and grunted. This was no good…They were near tents of a part of the army. Maybe a mage would be able to feel her? Or a templar? They could not lose the Inquisitor, especially because they were both seriously considering she could be having a panic attack. And –

"Bordel!" The scout let out in Orlesian.

They saw her falling across the guardrail, her shape appearing back for barely a second before disappearing again. She tried to keep her hands on the railing, to hold to it but her limbs were weak, her head dizzy, unable to know what was really happening.

"FENEDHIS!"

Their head spun towards the unknown incoming voice. An elf, a Dalish, considering her vallaslin, wearing a battlemage coat rushed from shadows nearby. She had a staff in her hands and swiftly raised both her hands. Roots emerged from the snow under the balcony. She kept them rising until she heard the sound of a body meeting them and a grunt of pain. The scouts remained ajar in face of the gigantic roots doing half the way to the balcony. The unknown elf turned back to them, spitting orders.

"What are you two idiots waiting for?! Climb this damn thing and bring her here, she needs healing!"

As she shouted to the men, they saw the spymaster tilting with wide eyes across the guardrail.

"Bordel, what is happening here?!"

Their fellow scout was near her, sheepish. The elf didn't let the incomers broke her resolve and glare at the scouts.

"Where is the Inquisitor?" Asked Leliana, her eyes going from the roots to the ground to the bedchamber.

"Err I think…She, er, is  _in_  the roots."

Her eyes widened even more. She finally looked at the elf standing near her men and narrowed her eyes.

"Who is with you?"

"Someone who is trying to save the Inquisitor ass if only someone could bring her here with healing potions! Fenedhis pull it together guys!"

Leliana finally nodded to tell her scouts to do as said. She spun on her heels, decided to grab these healing potions herself and to meet the others downstairs.

* * *

"Here you go, lethallan." The elf had Mahariel placed on a cot. The Inquisitor had been knocked out by the fall. The scouts had successfully untriggered her cloak. Leliana looked at the Dalish.

"How did you manage to catch her if she was cloaked?"

"I saw her fall, the cloak hopefully untriggered for few secs and her mark flashed. Then, well, I won't pretend my aim was precise." She waved towards her pretty large roots. Leliana looked at the woman, her red messy hair, her sunrise pupils, the Sylaise dark red vallaslin around her left one.

"We've met, didn't we?" The elf looked up few seconds, observing the other woman.

"It's not impossible indeed…Oh, ever been at Vigil's Keep during the thaw of the fifth Blight?" Leliana took few seconds to remember. She had been there yes, visiting Kailan – the Hero of Ferelden. By that time, she was there to…

"You are the one who was to take Kailan's Warden-Commander charge, weren't you?"

"Indeed, and you are her friend who ended up Left hand of the Divine. Leliana is it? Name's Aelia."

"What is a Grey Warden doing among our soldiers?" Leliana quickly skipped the courtesy part, way more curious – and suspicious – of the presence of the Warden-Commander of Ferelden and therefore Arl of Amaranthine among their men.

"Kailan managed from…Mythal knows where she is, to send words to as much Grey Wardens as she could when she figured out this fake-Calling thing. I tried to maintain order in Vigil's Keep but it was in vain, most of the Wardens weren't around anymore. I had no way to do any good from there. So, I left too, hoping to be of any help in this mess. Eventually, I decided to reach Skyhold instead of Weisshaupt. This was closer and Kailan seemed to consider the Inquisition trustworthy in her letter so, here I am. I barely arrived hours ago. I wanted to come introduce in the morning."

"Yet you are not wearing the Grey Warden armor nor your insignia."

"It cannot fool a fellow Warden, still, it prevented the people on the way to acknowledge my status. I wasn't eager to enter a fight against my own." Leliana nodded and decided to pursue the questions later. She turned back to Mahariel.

"How is she doing?"

"Physically she is fine but look." She pointed her closed eyelids "Can you see the movements? She is not at ease."

"Shouldn't we wake her?" Aelia's brows furrowed.

"I'm not sure it's the best. Obviously, being awake isn't enough to drive the demons away. At least, in the Fade, she can fight them. If she is awake it'll prove harder. I'm not sure what would be the best, I was hoping a mage who knows her could make this decision."

"My scouts are already on it."

As if it was their cue, Hawke, Dorian and Solas appeared from a corner, walking quickly with the scouts. Aelia looked at Leliana.

"I said one. They – "

"Are going to argue, indeed." Leliana frowned. "I said one as well."

The scouts noticed soon enough the glare of both red-hair and explained himself with haste. They were on their way to Hawke and decided to short-cut through the rotunda. They weren't expecting anyone awake but Solas was in the ground floor and Dorian in the library. Considering their pressed pace, the men followed them as they headed to Hawke and…Well, here they were, all three of them.

"What happened?!" Snapped all three at Leliana, seeing Mahariel wounded on the coat. The spymaster sighed and summed up, confident the scouts already filled them in but the mages not happy enough with the lack of information.

"How would she just fall?" Asked Hawke again. "She is not clumsy!"

"Her Worship did not seem to feel alright." Answered a scout. Yeah, that was obvious considering the sweat on her face. Leliana looked at her men and ordered.

"Find out if anyone else saw what happened and keep anyone from coming here. We need this to stay quiet. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am!" The scouts went their way and Solas resumed once they were away. He kept his voice as emotionless as he could despite his own deep concern.

"I suspect she had a panic attack. It happened to her before and, with the Anchor, it quickly drives the attention of the Fade on her." Leliana scowled.

"It happened before? When?"

"After Haven."

"And you did not tell us because?" Asked Hawke. He mirrored the women's frown.

"She did not want to, for one. Besides, we managed to keep it under control. I…Did not know the nightmares were back." He admitted. Leliana caught the guilt flashing in his eyes before he suppressed it. She nodded and let him off the hook.

"So, we should wake her." Declared Dorian. Solas shook his head.

"No, awake would be worse. Where she is, she can fight more easily."

"Look at her, does it seem like the fight is well-going for her?!"

"I predicted this…" mumbled Aelia. Even though it was not at all her intention, it drove all eyes over her as they suddenly all remembered there was this unknown elf with them. She waved slightly her hand. "Don't mind me I, er…Have some roots to clear I believe, if you want to keep it quiet." She stood, confident the Inquisitor was between good hands. Leliana nodded, thinking about the mess under Mahariel's balcony. But it also made the mages spun towards the said roots and six eyes widened.

"By Andraste's breast band, that's quite the trick!"

"Ah, er, yes I guess so. A fellow mage taught me that. She used to be the first of I don't-know-which-clan before joining Kai – "

She cut her words, her eyes examining the mages. She had no idea who they were and wasn't so eager to let everyone know she was a Grey Warden and a friend of the Hero yet. Leliana, well, she was Kailan's friend so she could consider her trustworthy but them…

"Er, whatever, story for another day I…will go clean my mess." They watched her as she left, deciding she was right. Right now, they had better things to do.

* * *

Solas walked in the Fade, looking for Mahariel. As he argued with Hawke and Dorian, a fact hit them, realizing they were yelling next to her: no matter what was best, she was actually unable to wake up from the nightmare. They confirmed it by shaking her. Nothing reached her. She was too deep in it. He had to force into her dream, she was pushing against him hard. Actually, not only against him, against anyone. If the mark drove demons to her, her hurt was also glowing and driving benevolent spirits. He ran into Command, yelling at some barrier blocking her path. Next to her was an unknown spirit of Valor, trying to break the same barrier with a sword.

"I command you to let me go through!" Growled the female elf. Valor suddenly turned to him and bowed slightly.

"Aneth Ara, Fen'harel."

"Aneth Ara, Valor." Command nothing but froze, looking at the man…And seeing a man instead of a wolf this time. She interrupted her yelling to imitate reluctantly Valor.

"You wield your will to help this mortal. She has valor and courage but she forgot it. The claws of Fear and Despair are tightening around her." Solas nodded.

"Will you help me reach her?"

"Yes. She is powerful, with or without your magic. My strength alone cannot help me reach her and Compassion seemed unnerved and unable to help."

With Valor's help, he eventually found the chance to enter the area of the Fade she was in.  _Fenedhis…_ That was bad. Red Lyrium was growing more and more around her, the Breach widening upon her. She was on the snow, facing Corypheus' Dragon. In her hand was a tiny elven body…Not exactly a kid but not that much older.

"MAHARIEL!"

She didn't move. His voice didn't even reach her ears. He had no way to approach her through the corrupted lyrium. He focused his will to reduce the stones and managed to come closer. He tried to chase everything but her mind was fighting with his. He called out to her again.

"VHENAN, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

Her ear twitched a bit this time. Still she didn't move, unable or unwilling. He called behind him, unsure Valor and Command were following.

"Valor, Command, can you clear a path? She is fighting me, as well as the demons are."

Both spirits nodded and went forward. In other circumstances, he would have questioned Command's behavior, quite unlike its purpose. Valor sent fiercely his sword against the lyrium. The three of them looked with horror as the metal bounced. Fenedhis but…

"VHENAN, WAKE UP!" He commanded, hoping desperately it would find her ear and worked. But no. The Dragon was playing, circling her with her tail, obviously waiting for her attention. It was not half as fun if she didn't care. The beast roared at her. She suddenly looked up. From where he was, he could guess her bloodshot eyes, the wet on her cheek, her trembling lips. But most of all the loathing in her pupils, on her face. He thought first it was directed to the demon playing with her but her words cut it short.

"Be my guest, end  _it_!" His eyes widened and he yelled even if it was pointless.

"NO VHENAN! LISTEN TO ME –" A sadistic laughter interrupted him as the demon addressed him.

"It looks like we have a guest, and what an important one! But you can't save her, harellan." His teeth gritted with disgust.

"You should not bet on this."

"She cannot even hear or see you. All she sees and hears is me…And herself, of course." He addressed back to her. "I have no wish to end  _it_  yet, my dear inquisitor. Why would I, your din'anshiral is way more interesting without my participation, you invite so much people!"

She remained silent, looking back at the corpse. He laughed once more.

"Oh but if only it had just been her but no, you have doomed way more." The corpse in her hand began to change from a face, a shape to another. Solas called once more, even louder. His voice broke as he pleaded.

"VHENAN LISTEN TO ME! THEY ARE NOT ALL DEAD! Look at the faces. Cassandra, Varric, Leliana, Dorian, Hawke, me, we are alive! Please vhenan, you have to listen to me!" Valor's voice rose as he managed to broke a crystal.

"Go on, speak to her it is working!"

"Mahariel, look at me. I'm alive, you are in Skyhold. Leliana, Dorian, Hawke and me are just next to you. Focus on the outside, you can feel our presence." He suddenly spun to the spirits. "Command, Valor, I have an idea, keep me a way to come back."

He broke his concentration just enough to step out of the Fade. Dorian, Hawke and Leliana were near Mahariel's cot as himself was in a tent in order to get the quiet and the privacy to walk the Fade. He jumped on his feet to go scream to the others.

"Take her hand, talk to her, make her feel your heartbeat! Now!"

"Wha – "

"No time. I have to go back, just do it!" He barked, fearing to lose his focus.

* * *

Solas broke his focus one last time, but finally with relief. He reached the cot as Mahariel rose into a sitting position, awfully disoriented. She looked around with disbelief.

"Where…Where are we?"

"Under your balcony my dear, you did quite the fall."

She winced as she rested on her elbow.  _That explains that_. She remembered the panic attack, what happened in the Fade even if it was quite blurry. Her shoulder was painful but she could feel the healing potion – that she apparently took – acting. Still, she had a hell of a headache. And she felt quite uncomfortable, feeling the sweat and tears on her face. How many people had seen her as she was a total mess? They saw her features turning adamant and emotionless and she wiped her face with her torn sleeves. She raised an eyebrow of disbelief at the fabric and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Creators…" She cleared her throat, trying to compose herself. She avoided every eye, too ashamed to hold their gaze. "I believe I owe you all both apologies and thanks for – "

"Don't even mention it."

"Tel'abelas vh – Inquisitor."

Solas corrected himself a bit late but no one truly noticed, considering Dorian and him had spoken at the same time. Hawke handed her a cape to cover her torn sleeping tunic. Mahariel took it and managed to sit, feet back to the ground. They all made a movement forward as she grunted with pain but her eyes looked at them sharply. Right, she felt already bad, no need to hurt her pride any further. She stretched quickly and put a forced smile on her lips.

"Well, except if anyone feel like heading to the tavern, I believe going to bed would be a nice idea."

"Ariel, are y – "

"I'm fine, Elie. I appreciate what you did, sincerely. Preventing you from taking some rest wouldn't be an appropriate way to be thankful, would it?"

They sighed, defeated. She kept her perfect façade, smiling at every each of them. Solas felt her glance lasting a bit longer on him, the curve of her lips flustering the slightest. He had seen what happened in the Fade. She swallowed with uneasiness but eventually turned back to walk to Skyhold. Leliana, Hawke and Dorian spun to him.

"Solas, what happened?" He sighed.

"I do not know half of the answer, Champion. She is very secretive. And for what I gathered, I'm afraid this is not mine to share." Hawke frowned but conceded.

"You are right, of course. So, considering…" She paused before she snapped at him. "FOLLOW HER NOW!" He raised an eyebrow, not startling as Dorian at her yelling.

"I was already planning on, Champion."

"SO, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?"

"For you to stop questioning me." He answered wryly and slightly chastising. She stepped back and frowned even more.

"Oh. Right. I'm done." He nodded.

"Champion, Spymaster, Altus. Good night."

He quickened his pace to catch up with Mahariel but the mage had literally run from them. He was going to enter Skyhold and to head to her quarters when he noticed the footprints. Of course, the woods.

He entered the forest. He couldn't see the footprints anymore and tried to locate her magic. She had to be nearby –

"Garas, da'fen."

He spun as he heard her voice. He finally spotted her. She was squatting in front of…a wolf? Patting the head of the animal. Unexpected. Of course, he had a good relation himself with the wild animals but…Hum, maybe it was the magic of the Anchor? Obviously, he hadn't been as discreet as he thought as she explained out loud.

"Father was a ranger, remember?" He stepped out of the shadows.

"A pity this discipline is getting rarer." She nodded as she smiled genuinely to the wolf, scratching his ear. Her teeth played over her lip.

"I imagine you have questions."

"Not questions, concerns, vhenan. If I trespassed, it is because you could not be awakened from this side of the Veil. The nightmare had you. Considering you did not mention them lately, I thought they were not troubling you anymore."

"Right, because I would be so eager to admit I'm a damn child unable to defeat a nightmare…" She answered with a small bitter laughter.

"It is not what I meant." She remained silent several seconds before shaking her head.

"Ar dirth, vhenan'ara. I'm sorry, this was unfair." He put a hand on her shoulder. She quivered and shrugged to dislodge his hand. A bit of hurt appeared in his eyes as she resumed. "I do not need comfort Solas. I'm fine."

"If you were, you would not react like this when I touch you." Pointed he out.

"Okay, maybe I'm not fine. But I still don't need comfort."

"You do need it, you just think you don't deserve it." He hit a string with this one and finally got her to look at him. When she spoke, he heard once more the self-loathing he had heard in the nightmare.

"Precisely. Because I don't. So, now that I gave you right, can we drop the topic?"

She turned back to the wolf, determined once more to give it all of her attention. He shook his head. Yes, of course. This course of action was a dead-end. He could not reach her with support right now… _No, but she would answer to duty._  Yes, it was that. She would respond better to some tough love.

"Actually, I cannot drop the topic, Inquisitor." He used her title on purpose and successfully got her attention back. "See, a fact clearly appeared in your nightmare and it is only another confirmation of the next statement: you want to die." She snapped at him, jumping on her feet with a deep frown and a threatening tone.

"Nonsense, I do not want to. I cannot die, I'm the only one who is able to close the rifts."

"You cannot but it does not mean you do not want it. At the least, you are ready to and you should not. You were when we were in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, when Corypheus took Haven, and in every battle between and after. You always race in the middle of the danger, manage to drive every foe attention on you even though you are a mage and not a warrior. You risk willingly a deathblow in each fight in order to protect anyone."

"I'm an arcane warrior."

"Arcane  _rogue_. Your strength is stealth, subtlety. Not mindlessly charging. And you know it."

"Weren't you the one calling me a hero?! That's what hero are supposed to do is it not?"

"Being reckless, careless with their life when their life is the only thing preventing all Thedas to be torn apart?"

"Well, I'm not dead, am I? So apparently either I'm particularly bad in fulfilling my secret goal or I'm not trying to die!"

He had never seen her losing all composure for giving into anger – except for this time before Redcliffe – but that was good. It meant he had reached her, what he needed right now was emotions from her. And he could see the tears threatening to drop in the corners of her eyes.

"I did not say you were trying to. I said you were willing to."

"Yeah, I'm not afraid of death! This is how I survive, how any soldier survives: they have a cause and are ready to die for it so we are not blinded by fear when we fight."

"But you should be afraid a bit, for Thedas' sake. If you fall, everyone falls and it is not what you want. So, Inquisitor, if not for you, do it for everyone else. Stop blaming yourself for what happened, and stop being ready to die. The people need you  _alive_. They are ready to give their life for yours because  _yours_  matters way more. Don't make their sacrifice useless by being reckless because of your guilt."

His voice smoothened as he made his point. The tears were finally streaming her cheeks. He put his hands on her shoulder and, this time, she didn't fight it. She looked down but didn't answer. He pulled her in his arms. She gave him back his embrace. He stroked her back and whispered.

"Vhenan, talk to me."

She did not answer and buried her face further in his chest, silent sob shaking against him. He didn't push further. He pulled her away tenderly and put his fingers under her chin to make her look at him an instant. He knew she was about to apologize when she opened her mouth and silenced her with a quick kiss. He sat against a trunk, attracting her with him. He kept her close and her head came in the crook of his neck. The wolf sat too, his head on Mahariel's laps, slightly whining as he felt her sadness. They did not exchange a word as they remained there for the few hours left of the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Orlesian) Bordel - Dammit
> 
> (Elvhen) Garas, da'fen - Come, little wolf


	33. An Arl History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And my apologies for the delay! Hope you enjoy, let's give some proper introductions for Aelia before the party is off to Halamshiral.

* * *

Aelia sighed as she saw the first lights of dawn. Well, this was not how she was expecting her arrival. Now, she had to go to sister Leliana. The Nightingale had given her the night, needing it as much as her, but had been quite adamant in her look as she demanded to see her ASAP in the morning. She looked at the remaining of a healing potion next to her cot. It wasn't going to do anything against the headache…Damn fake-calling, this was driving her crazy!

Not let's-do-blood-magic-and-bring-doom-upon-the-world-we-swore-to-protect crazy but still, crazy.

At least, the people here were going to do something about this. Hopefully. Maker, they had to.

She entered Skyhold. A couple of scouts pointed her the rookery for Leliana.  _At least it may not be all formal right – and I spoke too soon_. As she was in the main hall, Leliana came from a door on her right.

"Warden-Commander, great, you are here. Come with – " She suddenly interrupted herself to clear her throat "Inquisitor."

Mahariel had stopped her strides at the front door, looking at the red-hair. Fenedhis, why were people here at dawn?! Well, obviously it had been a good idea to split from Solas before…Even if it was hardly saving any kind of appearances. She composed herself.

"Spymaster." She turned to Aelia and hesitated a moment but without further information, she went for a friendly smile "lethallan." The elf returned it.

"Aneth Ara, your Worship. I'm Aelia a, er –" She turned to Leliana, unsure of what the spymaster wanted her to say.

"She is a Grey Warden, Inquisitor. And a friend of a friend."  _Okay, no lie to the Inquisitor. Duly noted._

"Grey Warden?" She repeated with surprise. "And a friend of the Hero? That…is unexpected but not unwelcomed." Leliana nodded as Aelia was trying to figure out how she came to the second conclusion that quickly.

"I was going to meet with the Commander in his office. I did not want to wake you for it but since you are here…"

"Yes, of course. Begin without me, I can skip the introductions. I just need to change and I will be right here." She replied, looking down at the cape, covering her still partly torn tunic. She was about to spin on her heels when she took a look at Aelia. "Except if you want a change as well? You are in full armor." Aelia was about to thank her and wave the offer away but Leliana answered first.

"It is actually a good idea, an unknown mage in full armor and carrying her weapon is going to put the templars on edge." They both noticed the wrinkle of Aelia's nose when she mentioned templars but did not point out.

"Perfect. Garas lethallan, we will find you guest room and clothes once the Ambassador is awake. For now, I think my outfits should suit." She took another look at the woman and thought she could be happy to clean herself quickly as well. "Leliana, we will meet you at the Commander's office within half an hour." Leliana nodded.

"Your worship, Warden-Commander."

Considering she had apparently no voice in this matter, Aelia followed Mahariel in her quarters. The Herald searched few seconds her dresser, looking for two outfits. She took her black tunic, leggings, dragonling scales apprentice coat, and fingerless gloves for herself. Then, she showed her an outerwear made of light colors textures.

"I was thinking Day's Vigil. What do you think?" Aelia nodded absent-mindedly, not really concerned by whatever outfit she was to wear. Mahariel put it on a chair and resumed. "There is a bucket of water if you want to clean a bit. I will have the servants pouring you a bath after the meeting if you want."

"Oh, er, don't bother your Worship, it…" She was going to say it wasn't necessary but she stopped her words, considering her current state of dirtiness. Well, maybe it was a bit necessary, at least the bucket. But she felt not exactly comfortable right now, in the private quarters of the Inquisitor. The idea of cleaning her face was tempting nonetheless…Mahariel raised an eyebrow.

"First, call me Mahariel. Second, this is not bothering me and I can tell from your eyes that you desperately want a bath. Don't make me command you, lethallan."

This was Aelia's turn to raise an eyebrow. She was a Warden, she did not have to take order from  _– and it was obviously a joke. Maker, you need to relax, the woman is being friendly._ She put a smile on her face.

"I wouldn't dare indeed. Thank you Inq – Mahariel." The white-hair smiled back and went in a little room to change her outfit as she spoke.

"I owe you both apologies and thanks by the way. I made quite the poor first impression, didn't I?" Aelia could feel how she was forcing a light tone in the words but wasn't quite comfortable with the memory of last night. She tried to reassure her.

"Don't mention it. I'm just glad I was able to help." She paused and hesitated a sec. "Are you feeling better?"

"I'm fine." The statement was final. Aelia did not insist, considering she barely met the woman. "These roots, it was an elven spell, wasn't it? I could feel the familiar energy but I never saw such thing. What clan are you from?"

"Er, this spell comes from a fellow Warden, Velanna. I…I don't know which clan she came from." Mahariel let her dodge the question for the time being.

"Hum I see, I would be curious to meet her…Given she stayed away from the current mess."

"I have no idea where she is." She answered, happy that Mahariel did not point out her not-so-discreet dodging.

"Yes, I thought as much, this is quite the common answer about the Wardens right now…So, a healer?"

"How do you – "

"You are a mage dedicated to Sylaise. I just guessed you followed the Vir Atish'an. It would make sense."

Aelia bit the inside of her cheek. She did not cross paths with so many Dalish among the years and had forgotten the meaning of the vallaslin she had received. The Dalish lore was just so blurry and she had been raised an Andrastian. She suppressed a sigh. Of course, she couldn't fool a true Dalish. The woman probably already knew she wasn't born one.

"Well, let's postpone this discussion for later, shall we? The Commander and the spymaster are waiting. You ready?"

Aelia nodded, once more thankful for the politeness of Mahariel. She was not herself sure why she still was uncomfortable with this part of her history. It didn't matter anymore, she was a Grey Warden. And a good one. But some Dalish were not that friendly with non-dalish elves and she had never been very eager to share her history either way…

* * *

When they entered the Commander's office, she literally froze and her mouth opened with surprise too soon for her to remember her latest inner statement about her past.

"Cullen?!" The man looked up from his desk and widened his eyes as well.

"Aelia?!" They stared at each other with disbelief before she resumed, her words staggering.

"I thought you were – "

" – dead!" He interrupted, ending her sentence.

"And, now it makes sense." Mahariel addressed to Leliana, finding quickly the answer of the puzzle. The spymaster looked at her questioningly. She waved. "Leave the explanations to them, given they stop looking at each other as they would at a ghost."

But it was exactly what was in front of them: a ghost. A ghost they thought ten-years dead. They both tried to speak again.

"How are – "

"Maker, you cannot – "

They both spoke at the same time and closed their mouths at the same time. Mahariel suppressed a sigh. This was going to be longer than she thought. She took Leliana's elbow and declared, not sure they were even able to hear her.

"You know what, we'll be back in ten minutes, luckily it would be enough for you to…defeat this awful awkwardness."

Once on the battlement, Leliana looked at her, waiting for some explanation. She clarified.

"She is not born Dalish, I'm sure of it, I could tell that only with her  _aneth ara_. The accent is not the one of a native, it is Fereldan. She is a mage and you saw as well as I her reaction when you mentioned templars. Her back straightened purely by reflex. Not someone who has been taught to despite shems, but to fear templars. Add to it she knows Cullen…"

"She is from a Circle."

"Likely the one of Lake Calenhad." Leliana winced, remembering how they found the said circle ten years ago.

"No wonder they grew livid…"

* * *

Cullen leaned on the desk, needing support. Aelia did the same against the wall, almost falling on the ground. She didn't even know what to say or how to act. Cullen had been her friend, he was one of the rare templar who would speak with her, or with any mage, without always barking orders. Dammit, before everything became hell, she could remember her Harrowing. He was to be the one giving the deathblow if she failed and he felt so bad about it…She crossed path with him after it, he could not even find words to tell how relieved he felt she had made it, how terrified he had felt to the idea of doing his duty if she was to fail…They were so young back then…He was twenty and she was eighteen…

"How?" He finally managed, interrupting her recollection. She could see his hand slightly trembling. She gathered her voice.

"When…When Uldred began the rebellion, I found myself trapped inside and…I…I fought, for a time. But eventually, they were too much so…Andraste, I don't know how I survive, I jumped through a window and swam…I knew it would make of me an apostate but…I couldn't fight anymore and…I didn't want to die." She explained, pain in her voice. She had still nightmares about this part of her life and was not proud of what she did: she abandoned her home, ran away. He took a deep breath.

"I was trapped inside too. We fought but my brothers fell, one by one and…" She could see the trembling growing as he chased the thought. "If it wasn't for the Hero, I would be dead." She let a nervous laughter out.

"That makes two of us."

"You weren't in the tower anymore when she arrived." Pointed he out, trying to follow her story. She nodded.

"Indeed. I…I manage to find a Dalish clan. I stayed with them for a time, they gave me the vallaslin…I thought being acknowledged as a Dalish was better than as an apostate…Of course, I forgot my phylactery. The clan couldn't take one more mage so finally, I parted from them. But after the Blight, the templars began to look for me…They found me in Amaranthine. I knew going in a city was a huge chance but I needed supplies. The Hero popped as they were going to take me…I was trying to explain what happened, that I didn't want to flew but they didn't care…So, she conscripted me. After, once the templar were gone, she offered me the choice of joining the Wardens or not. I accepted."

"So, you are a Warden." He repeated the obvious, considering her words. He seemed thoughtful and frowned a bit. Yeah, of course, being a Warden wasn't that good these days. She stood and came closer to the desk. Cullen was very pale, his hands shaking. She tilted her head, trying to find his gaze.

"Cullen, are you okay?" He waved the concern.

"Yes, just a headache."

She looked at his features. Right now, his eyes seemed older than they should be. He had a new scar above the lip. But, most of all, he had the look of someone who had seen too much for his age. She put a hand on the arm of her long-lost friend.

"Cullen, what happened during the last ten-years?"

"I…er…" They both heard Leliana's and Mahariel's voices coming closer to the door. She took back her hand and stepped back as he composed himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aneth ara - friendly greetings


	34. Wicked Eyes and Wicked Heart - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, my apologies for the long delay. Warning for the last part of the chapter, there may be lemons, if you want to skip.

 

* * *

 

Mahariel woke up early. They were to take their leave at first lights. A lot of them were going to be away for quite a time and she wanted to see Blackwall and Harding. They were in charge of keeping everything in check and sending them regular reports. Dorian, Bull and Sera were to stay here as well, but she wasn't crazy enough to put them in charge. They were even the first to be carefully watched. Obviously.

She was happy to be back on the road. For one, it was easier to find time to chat with everyone. She caught up with Cassandra a lot. As the Seeker was avoiding Varric as the plague and Mahariel was often to be found with Hawke and him, she didn't get so much chance to talk with her since Caer Oswin. She spent her journey switching from one's side to another, not without carefully avoiding Josephine and Vivienne. The more the Ball was close, the more the women were becoming nuts and babbling advices about Orlesians randomly. She would manage some secret meeting with Varric and Leliana as soon as Hawke was beyond earshot. She sneaked few times among the soldiers, chatting friendly with them. With her gloves covering her mark, the men didn't realize right away they were talking to the Inquisitor. Until someone call after her and then it will be babbling, stumbling, blushing and endless blinking. Solas was watching her dance, restless as she was. He knew at some point she was to go scout forward and discreetly inviting him to come along with an imperceptible nod and glance. It was his privilege: being invited to scout forward with her. Scouting forward was her quiet time during this social dance and she was willing to share it with him. Except for the few times she would jump on her hart before. The mount meant fully lonely quiet time. He explained it to Varric when the dwarf came to ask him why he wasn't following her once. The dwarf had chuckled.

"You are full of surprises, Chuckles! I didn't take you for the romantic kind!"

"Being observant is hardly being romantic, master Tethras."

"And being observant is hardly having your eyes stuck endlessly on one person only."

"I did not do such a thing." Solas had answered quickly but his face and tone were not half as cold as his words. Varric would even swear his lips slightly curved.

Mahariel wasn't exactly sure why Leliana had asked for Aelia to come with them. Sure, she was a Warden and they were going to Adamant right after the Ball but, they already had enough Wardens, didn't they? And taking one more Warden mage wasn't exactly the wisest idea…But she didn't argue, considering one other healer beside Hawke could prove useful. She could stay with the troops and, considering she arrived barely before their departure, it was true they had left several subjects to discuss with the Warden-Commander. She could have insights to help them during the assault. The Warden was discreet, riding silently except if one of them came to her. She was mostly to be found with Leliana or/and the Commander, discussing the issues brought up during the latest night meeting. Mahariel, Hawke and Varric would come to her as well because…Well, Varric and Hawke weren't to leave anyone be and the Inquisitor was very…well, inquisitive with new allies.

Mahariel, Varric, Hawke, Leliana and Josie – when she allowed herself to forget one sec the Game – were the worst group of gossipers to be found in the convoy. A pity Dorian wasn't here as well, truly…And, as such, their attention when they were together was mostly on Aelia, considering she was the last one to join.

"Ah! You owe me one silver dwarf!" Said successfully Hawke, pointing her finger to Cullen and Aelia.

"What, why that?" Asked Josephine "How do you – " Varric sighed, defeated.

"No Ruffles, she is right. Look at Curly, how he is rubbing the back of his neck. Dammit, I'm seriously losing my touch." Hawke laughed evilly.

"Told you it will happen before we reach Halamshiral!" Mahariel cleared her throat and Hawke sighed "Yeah okay, I know I owe you one silver too."

"What?! You had the same bet with Grey but on the other side?!"

"Because she tricked me! She came and bet me Cullen would be flirting with a mage before we reach Halamshiral! Said like this without details, of course I thought she was crazy!" It was Mahariel's turn to laugh evilly.

"And then you heard the entire story and rush to do the same to Varric." Hawke shrugged.

"I wasn't very eager to lose one silver to your duplicity you horrible double-crosser! I'm just surprised Varric didn't try the same!"

"Oh, he did." Answered Leliana and Mahariel with one voice. They shared a knowing smile before the spymaster resumed "But it was a bit late for that." Varric handed the coin to Mahariel.

"Yes, well, take it right now or Hawke will try to trick you."

"How dare you dwarf?!" Hawke replied fake offended "I always honor my debts." She paused and shook her head to emphasize "And I have good hair."

* * *

 

The night of the Grand Ball finally came. Mahariel crossed the door of Halamshiral with her advisors and an inquisitorialness guard. She was stunning in the dress. Her sovereign stature, chin high, full of grace. Her hair was wavy, some little braids clearing her pointed ears. She took a deep breath before smirking with confidence when she saw the Grand Duke.  _Game on._

Gaspard pointed quickly Briala as the guilty party. She listened carefully to his words, trying to find her way between the lies, half-truths and omissions. For someone claiming to hate the Grand Game, she had no doubt Gaspard was a skillful player, and the kind who was here to win the night. After the discussion, she took on her to help a noble with her lost ring – she needed the favor of the court after all, but she didn't miss the occasion to place some witty word in doing so. She eavesdropped some conversation before she decided that it was time to move to the official introductions to the Empress. She couldn't be free of her movements before.

She managed unsurprisingly well – given her history – and spotted some nods of approval among the nobles.  _Good, now the evening can truly begin._ She went to find Leliana outside of the Ballroom. They talked about Gaspard and Briala, then the spymaster mentioned the presence of an occult – literally – advisor at the Court. Once the pressing matters had been discussed, she leaned closer to her ear and declared with a knowing smile.

"I have your  _special scout_  awaiting above the guest garden, Inquisitor." Mahariel smirked.

"Does he know she is here?"

"No, we were a bit afraid he would just not stay where we wanted him if he knew the Champion was here. However, it probably means you should hurry. I met the man in Kirkwall" She chuckled "Believe me, only one person can make him wait without him beginning to kill people. And sorry to disappoint but this is not your Worship. Or Varric. Probably even less Varric actually." Mahariel smiled with mischief.

"I would not have it any other way. Speaking of a dwarf, I'll find him right now so he could stall our guest before it becomes bloody."

Hopefully, Varric was easy to find, discussing with nobles. Apparently, he was quite pissed against his editor but she decided it was nor the time or the place to elaborate the topic. She whispered him some words and he chuckled as he nodded.

"Duly noted, Grey. Go find Hawke, I'll keep him company."

Okay, no unwelcomed bloodshed. That was a good start. Now, finding the Champion…

Hawke was still outside the Winter Palace, held hostage by some nobles. Now that she thought about it, she should really have seen it coming. She was – officially at least – Viscountess of Kirkwall and unmarried. And apparently, every stupid single orlesians remembered that, and now she was stuck with two sticky suitors who couldn't take a hint! And she couldn't just go, dammit, she was here with the Inquisition, she could not act with disregard of any politeness…Sadly. She was wearing a dark-red ballgown. Some thin golden strings crossed on her nude shoulders and traced Kirkwall heraldry in her back. Her brown hair was falling around her face as a gold half-mask emphasized her amber eyes. She suddenly spotted the long white-hair.  _YES!_

"If you may excuse me gentlemen, I need a word with the Inquisitor." Both men made a ridiculously deep bow, fighting against each other for who will made the deepest – or the most ridiculous, depends of the point of view.

"Messere Hawke."

She suppressed some rolling eyes and loudened a bit her voice.

"Inquisitor, my dear, it has been too long. Please, walk with me, your Worship." Mahariel suppressed a laughter at her dramatic skills who couldn't help but sound awfully sarcastic. She reached her with the quickest respectable pace she could and took her arm. She whispered "Andraste's tits, I'm never leaving your side again! Damn Orlesians lapdogs!"

"As you wish, but be aware,  _my dear_ , I have quite the agenda." Mahariel looked at her entwined arms and smiled at the sight of the red ribbon, hardly hidden under her gloves.

"I'm up for anything right now! Just take me away from them!"

"Happy to hear!" Mahariel chuckled before remembering a thing and wincing a bit "Right now, it includes climbing a railing to search the library. Discreetly." Hawke put as much dignity as she could in her laughter as she looked down at their dresses.

"Maker, this should be fun!"

* * *

 

Fenris was tapping his foot face to the poor explanation of Varric.

"Dwarf, I didn't ask what happened to you lately, I read your letters. What I want to know is what I'm doing here. Wearing that." He looked down with skeptical eyes at the Inquisition scout outfit.

"I'm coming to it Broody! Maker, relax! So, I was saying…"

"Venhedis, at least give me something to drink if I am to listen to your endless monologue." Fenris mumbled as he leaned back against the wall.

They were standing away from the railing, out of sight. Varric had found a hidden railing behind the column of the promenade and a tree. Better than the one next to the fountain…Suddenly, Fenris interrupted him with a hand. Someone was coming. He reached swiftly the pommel of his two-handed sword in his back.

"Are you awaiting someone else, dwarf?"

"Wow, chill with the sword! This has to be the Inquisitor, don't try to behead her!" He waited for the hands of the elf to let go of the pommel. "It might take a while for her to climb, considering her dress." Fenris raised an eyebrow.

"Shouldn't we help her?"

"Nah, wouldn't be half as fun." Fenris growled.

"Festis bei umo canavarum" Varric heard the laughter of the women and covered it with his one.

"Maker Broody, did you smile at least once lately?" He crossed his arms and answered sternly.

"No."

"Well, be careful, as Daisy said, I fear your face might crack at this point."

"Why are you mentioning this monster?"

Fenris scowled and turned his back on the dwarf, decided to ignore him. He kept his arms crossed as he rested against a column. He didn't like it. Among his years in Kirkwall, he had learnt to trust the dwarf but all this, his attitude, this charade and fasta vass this palace full of orlesians…He definitely didn't like it. Venhedis, the  _only_ reason he had agreed to this was because of some hope the dwarf could have some insights about Hawke's whereabouts. Dammit, no one had been able to tell him where she was! No one in this damn country was able to recognize the freaking champion and viscountess of Kirkwall! She had to be somewhere! And now, he was waiting for yet another mage on top of that. Varric had made very clear the rumors about her being Tevinter were just that. Rumors. Did not make him like the situation much more. He jumped at the clinking of metal behind him.

Mahariel took away their masks and sent them on the upper floor. These damn things were not helping. They had already difficulties to climb, leave alone the effect of obstructed vision. They were busy and could not pay attention to the voices, getting closer as they climbed. Hawke finally notice them – or at least some sound. She stopped Mahariel with a hand and lowered her voice.

"Are we to expect company up here?" The elf dismissed the worry.

"Leliana's people. They are everywhere tonight in order to hand us some equipment if needed."

"That makes sense." As they came closer, she paid more attention – Varric still stalling and mostly speaking alone. "Is Varric with them?" Mahariel suppressed a shrug, reconsidering the idea face to her current position.

"Possibly, why not? I wouldn't blame him for running away from the Orlesians." Hawke nodded as she frowned. She was more interested in his conversation partner. The man remained mostly silent, but occasionally grunted to Varric's words. And…Damn there was something familiar about these grunts but, it is what they were, grunts and…She looked at her hand as she moved it to climb yet a bit more and her eyes laid on the red ribbon. Her heart suddenly jumped as she realized why these grunts sounded familiar. But she quickly shook her head, mumbling to herself.

"You are becoming crazy, hearing people who just  _cannot_  be here, you idiot…" Mahariel's head spun questioningly. "Arrh don't mind me, just losing my sanity. Happens on a daily basis." They both laughed lightly.

Mahariel finally reached the upper floor. Varric was still drowning the elf under a words' avalanche so his back remained towards her. She grinned and turned back to give a helpful hand to Hawke. Hawke took the final step and stretched her neck. She did not look yet at the so-called scouts at the end of the promenade, looking back at the damn railing.

"Let's not do this again anytime soon, Ariel. We will eventually just tear these bloody dresses apart."

"And Josie will eventually kill us. I'm beginning to think she is the most dangerous of the whole Inquisition."

"Agreed." They exchanged a knowing smile and laughed lightly.

Fenris froze when he heard the well-known giggle behind him.  _No, she cannot be…_ He saw Varric's expression and his heart skipped a beat. He spun on his heels.

"Hawke?!"

The woman turned his head right away and froze as much as him. Her eyes wide-opened and – for once – absolutely speechless. They both stared at each other with disbelief for several seconds before the most genuine beam appeared on their face. She forgot immediately the heavy dress and run towards him to jump in his arms. Even him, usually shy in his love in front of an audience, could not care less right this moment. He held her tight and kissed her fiercely for a moment before he rests his forehead against hers. He stroked her cheek caringly as to make sure she was really here. He chuckled with his green eyes deep in hers.

"I'm supposed to be mad at you, Elie."

"Even you are not strong enough for that." She answered with mischief, her arms knotted around his neck. They kissed again. The kiss turned so passionate that they fell backwards. He could feel the warm breath of her giggle inside his mouth. Maker, he had missed her. His hands cupped her chin and he lost himself in the enamored stare before taking her lips back to his.

Mahariel and Varric had a huge grin on their face. The clap of their high five seemed to remind their presence to the couple. Hawke reluctantly moved from him – not without encountering troubles with the ballgown. The elf looked at her wrist and his eyes enlightened as he saw the red ribbon. He put yet another kiss just below it and smirked.

"You really do smile only for her, Broody." Varric commented with fake hurt. Mahariel looked at him with fake chastising look.

"Husssh, don't remind the kids we are here, Varric."

Mahariel struggled with the mechanism of a door which finally opened. Her eyes glanced towards Hawke and Fenris.

"I take a quick look in it and it is all yours." The elf slightly – and somehow reluctantly – blushed as she winked suggestively.

"That would be appreciated." She smiled with mischief.

"I figured as much." Hawke laughed.

"Damn I forgot the introductions! Fenris, the Inquisitor. Inquisitor, Fenris." She laughed and offered him her hand.

"I figured as much too. And don't get all formal, it's Mahariel." He shook her hand.

"A pleasure Inq – Mahariel." She nodded and turned back to her searching. Hawke looked at him, amused.

"You are aware she is a mage, aren't you?"

"I am. But I am aware there are good mages as well as you will know. Considering  _this_  is obviously her and Varric's doing, I can give her a chance." He smirked to the Champion before asking to Mahariel "Varric told me about your hair. Am I to understand you underwent a similar ritual as myself?" Mahariel raised a victorious hand with papers in it.

"The peace talks, got it! Let's keep the friendly talk for later, would we? I have an imperial ass to save and  _you_  have important matters to attend." She winked again as Hawke's laughter resounded.

"Here she is, the glorious Inquisitor who has to save all Thedas but the catch up of two lovers  _is_  the important matter!" Varric commented.

"This is Chuckles' fault, he made her softer, she is turning into a kitty!" Mahariel looked at him threateningly.

"I am not."

"Oh, you are, Ariel! Maker preserves us, if we are to discover Corypheus is engaged, you will end up planning his wedding instead of killing him!" The four of them winced with disgust at the image. Fenris looked at her and spoke with a fake patronizing tone.

"Hawke, stop killing the mood."

Considering Mahariel and Varric were back outside, he smirked and pulled her in the room. She giggled.

"See you later!"

She slammed the door. Mahariel and Varric looked at each other and laughed before she commented.

"Well, better hurry before our dear hosts noticed I bailed."

* * *

 

Fenris looked at Hawke, his eyes full of a lot of emotions. Relief, joy, love, lust.

"You are stunning."

"Almost there, just a little bit more of practice a – "

He muttered her teasing with his mouth. She smiled against his lips as the kiss grow from tender to intense. His mouth run down her neck, appreciative of the cleavage of her dress. Her hands found their way under the top of the scout outfit. Quickly pissed with the fabric, she broke the embrace few secs to send it away. Her pupils widened as she pressed her hands against his muscled chest. She bit her bottom lip before leaning back towards his face. Her tongue lingered on his ear playfully, letting her teeth brushing his earlobe. He growled huskily.

Fenris wiped the stuffs on the desk and sat her on it. He refrained himself from tearing the dress apart, remembering in extremis the event they were at. He snarled at the outfit, his breath short.

"If I'm not to tear this in pieces, you better get rid of it quickly." She teased.

"Awww is that your way of saying you missed me?" He smirked.

"I do not need to state the obvious."

Hopefully for the sake of the dress, Josephine had had the sewers doing the parting thing. She giggled at his clear disappointment when she revealed trousers under the heavy skirt. He unknotted eagerly the top not fighting so much against the corset-style of the closing. He did have quite the years of practice. It was the turn of his pupils to widen even more, almost comically to the sight of the bare skin. He leaned forward, letting his lips brushing the warm skin of her neck. Her back arched a bit at the sensation as his tongue ban to explore each inch of flesh it could find. Her fingers went on the low back, slightly crossing the beltline.

She moaned when his teeth met her nipple. He began to suck it hungrily, his tongue dancing around the sensible area. Her hands came back instantly on his front side and struggled against the buckle. She felt his chuckle against her breast and quivered.

"Need some help, Elie?"

He cupped her breasts, teasing one with his mouth and the other with his fingers. Her whimper prevented her from providing an answer. She vanquished the buckle and lowered his trousers as well as his underwear with her legs. He sent them away with a movement of his feet.

He groaned at her touch of his thighs. She dragged her hands slowly, almost lazily until they arrived between them. And she quickly took them away, enjoying the not-so-appreciative grunt that came of it. She smirked and brought them to his chin to level his face back to hers. She kissed him languidly and let her mouth oh-so-slowly move from his lips to his chin to his neck to his chest to his abs until it finally reach his crotch. Thrills ran along his spine as he felt her lips brushing his length and his lips parted slightly. He felt her wamr mouth around him moving still oh-so-slowly. A loud groan crossed his lips as she felt the pre-cum entering her throat. He could feel the quick smirk on her lips. Her tongue became more playful and just a bit quicker in its movements.

When she came back to his face, he was reddened of pleasure and sweating. He put his hands on her waist and tilted her harshly on the desk. She gasped expectantly. He got rid of her trousers and panties -them he did tear apart. Her back arched as his arousal pressed against her bare thigh. He came back to her mouth and kissed her passionately. He bit her bottom lip as his fingers teased her crotch skillfully. He rubbed the sensitive flesh with one hand as his other was back on her breast. Feeling how wet she already was, he grunted appreciatively and his fingers took a swift pace. The steamier she got, the fastest he went, until her moans were begging inside his mouth. He smirked and teased her some more -she was the one to begin with the  _oh-so-slow_  part. He let his fingers lingered around her entrance, soaking in her excitement.

As his rod was still against her thigh, her knees pushed his hips on the side, hoping to get him to stop this torturing wait. He didn't fight, unable to wait any longer himself. A deep moan of relieve crossed the lips of them both when he finally entered her, thrusting intensely inside. Feeling her legs knotting around his waist, he tilted backward to lift her and turned around. He inversed position with her, sitting himself on the desk with her astride his laps. She arched her back to push him further inside and press her chest against his. His hands came on her low back in support. He guided her hips onto him. She quickened the pace of the shoves. They were endlessly kissing, biting, licking each other skin and lips, the moans and grunts barely muttered by the activity of their mouths.

The moans of pleasure resounded as they both came. They half collapsed on the desk, him remaining inside her. Her head on his chest, they were tenderly stroking each other. He raised himself on his elbow to rest his forehead against hers. He brought back one hand on her cheek, his eyes deep in hers with an enamored glance and a silly smile. She pressed a quick kiss on his lips and asked with a mischievous smirk.

"Ready for second round?"


	35. Wicked Eyes and Wicked Heart - Part II

Mahariel had found few interesting things for her investigation when the bell of the ballroom rang. She went quietly to the door when a dark-haired woman wearing a purple dress addressed her.

"Well, well, what have we here? The leader of the new Inquisition, fabled Herald of the Faith" She suppressed some rolling eyes, hoping the irony she heard was true and not a trick of her desperate ears. At least her accent was not Orlesian. "Delivered from the grasp of the Fade by the hand of blessed Andraste herself" Okay, definitely mocking her. The woman rested her hands on her waist with nonchalance "What could bring such an exalted creature here to the Imperial Court, I wonder? Do even you know?"

"We may never know. Court intrigues and all that." A discreet smirk of approval appeared on the stranger's face.

The conversation went on a bit. The woman revealed to be Morrigan, the Court Occult advisor Leliana mentioned. She quickly came to the point that made her approach the Inquisitor. Venatori. She gave her a key. Hopefully the one to the servant's quarter.  _This_  was becoming all more fun. When Morrigan disappeared, Mahariel heard the second call.  _Fashionably late_.

Before coming out of the Ballroom, she spoke quickly with Leliana, Josephine, Vivienne and Cullen. Poor man was surrounded by Orlesian suitors, she could relate his despair. And, unlike her, he couldn't escape the Ballroom, considering the threat on the Empress. She couldn't do much for him right now, she was busy and…As she listened to Josephine's sister tale, she spotted another known face in a corner.  _Hum, what do you know?_  After chuckling, more to Josie's reaction than to the story itself, she excused herself and went to Aelia who was so hidden in the shadows she was almost invisible.

"Warden-Commander?"

"Hum? Ah, er, Mah – No Winter Palace you idiot…Inquisitor?" Mahariel raised an eyebrow and teased.

"Uncomfortable here, lethallan?"

"Just a bit. I honestly don't know what I'm doing here, by the way." She smirked.

"Wonder of wonder, isn't it?"

"Oh Maker, you sound like the Orlesians, stop it. Can I help you?"

"Matter of fact, yep."

"Oh?" She came next to her and pointed discreetly the Commander. Aelia looked at her questioningly. Okay, she might have glanced in this direction once or twice but why would she…

"What do you see?"

"Er, the Commander and a bunch of Orlesians."

"Okay what, as a soldier, do you see?" Aelia narrowed her eyes and she understood. His back was straightened, his hand at the place the pommel of his sword should be, forming a fist.

"He is going to punch someone or is it just me?"

"Nope, exactly my impression. Well, he likely won't because he knows we are to behave. Still, I would be more at ease if someone could give him a chance to breath. The man is having a very long night and, sadly, I cannot do anything about it." The discomfort had left Aelia as she understood her mission. Simple enough but she was yearning for being useful tonight. She nodded.

"I'm on it, Inquisitor. Anything else?"

"Not right now. If you see or hear anything unnerving – or just fun, report to Leliana."

"Duly noted. See you later, your Worship."

Mahariel took her leave, an evil smirk on her lips. A pity Varric and Hawke weren't here to see that…At least she spotted Leliana's glance from the other side of the room. Well, she will explain it later, she was to find the others and act if there were Venatori around…

Aelia hesitated a bit on the best course of actions to fulfill her mission. They were both to stay in the Ballroom in order to watch Celene's back. But there were plenty of balcony in the said ballroom. Probably the only place they would have a chance of privacy in order for Cullen to take some fresh air – figuratively as literally. She walked towards the group, trying to remember Varric's tale of Château Haine.  _Well, that could work…Not like I have any other idea anyway. Ugh, Andraste, I'm terrible at that…_ She cleared her voice, trying to find her best Grand-Game-suited voice.

"Commander, you will never believe what I just heard! How outrageous, some noblewoman dared wear the same outfit as the Grand Duchess and REFUSES to change!" His eyes bulged with an eyebrow of deep disbelief raised but she didn't care. All nobles had spun towards her.

"What did you say dear?!"

"Oh, good Andraste, I cannot believe such affront!"

"It can only be the Comtess of Montbeliard! This is typical!"

"Where is the guilty party my dear?!"

"In the gardens of the guest wing, you  _have_ to see it for yourselves!"

"Before she run away from shame."

"Oh, I would faint right away if I found myself – "

She stopped listening as the nobles were taking the way of the door. Considering Cullen's jaw remained ajar, she took his elbow to push him to move.

"Come on before others come back." He didn't fight as she led him to an Orlesian-free balcony "Okay, now you take a deep breath and you stop stretching your fist."

"Maker, what was that?" She shrugged.

"I figured this was the Grand-Game-Emergency-type. 'Twas right apparently. I will have to thank Hawke and Varric for the line however, I doubt I would have think of something like that myself." He chuckled as he leaned his elbows on the balcony.

"Neither would I. I've been looking for a way to get rid of them for hours. I owe you one, Warden-Commander."

"I wouldn't be thankful too soon. I doubt it will work twice. Who are they, by the way?" He sighed.

"I don't know, but they won't leave me alone."

"Not enjoying the attention, then?"

"Hardly. I – There, er." He cleared his throat and his hand came nervously to his neck. "There are but few people whose attention is worth having." She tried to hide her smile.

"I hope this is at least worth the troubles, see anything interested?"

"Not yet. It would be easier if people would stop talking to me." He looked up to her and understood by the hurt in her eyes how it came out wrong. Again. He added in a rush "Not you! Er, I mean, other people should stop, er, talking to, hum, me but it does not include you, you should not stop talking to me…Er, except if you want to stop talk – Oh Maker." He looked away, slightly blushing. He had never been good at this, and obviously there are things ten years do not change. She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Let's talk about something which has nothing to do with Orlesians, shall we?"

"Please."

* * *

Mahariel was looking for her companions in order to head to the servant's quarter. She found an…oddly merry Solas leaned against a wall in the guest wing. When she came closer, he declared with a light tone – and she was honestly only half-sure he was actually addressing her.

"I do adore the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex that permeates these events." She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, suppressing an inappropriate chuckle.

"You seem more comfortable with a grand Orlesian ball than I'd have expected."

"I have seen countless such displays in my journeys in the Fade."  _Is that so? Not even remotely related to the empty glass?_ "The powerful have always been the same. Only the costumes change." He emphasized his words by looking at her from head to toes with some pretty unnerving sparkle in his eyes and an appreciative hum. Hopefully her half-mask was preventing any blush of becoming too obvious. She managed to ignore the suggestive look and sound, deciding it was not the time or the place. And a sudden concern had popped on her head.

"Have you encountered any trouble with the nobles?"

"The Orlesians do not quite know what to do with me. I have kept to myself, for fear of giving some purchase to cling to." His tone moved back to merry. "The food and drink are excellent, however, and the servants have been happy to refill my glass." She shook her head with a half-smile. Yes, that, she had guessed.

"Solas?" He answered with a smooth voice quite contradictory with the formal of his word.

"Inquisitor?"

"You are drunk." He looked elsewhere, his chin high.

"I am not."  _Yeah, this one was to be expected_. She let him off the hook but laughed slightly.

"If you say so…" Mischief popped in her eyes and she purred. "Any interest in dancing?"

"A great deal. Although, dancing with an elven apostate would win you few favors with the Court." He paused and smirked. "Perhaps once our business here is done?" She smirked back and leaned slightly closer than she should have.

"Given you can still dance if you keep at it."

She peered at the glass in his hand. He glanced discreetly around before considering eyes were not on them. He caught her wrist with his free hand, mana playing at his fingertips. His fingers darted over her forearm, magic tingling over her skin and through her gloves, its touch gentle yet teasing. His voice was velvet as he whispered.

"Even  _if_ I was inebriated – which I am not – there are a lot of things I can perform."

The mask was not enough to cover the crimson of her ears at the suggestive tone. He grinned wolfishly as he released her arm. She could not help but wet her lips.  _So, he IS drunk…And I should give him alcohol way more often._ She stepped back with hardly hidden reluctance after staring for a long time at his lips. She cleared her throat. Being professional was a high burden over her shoulders at this moment.

"I'll take your word on it. Ir abelas, lethallin, I have to get going. I'll be back."

"Hunt well!"

She smiled as she turned back. Hopefully there were enough of them around not to take along a drunk mage. Although, the view of it would be – No, bad idea. Drunk magic was  _always_ a bad idea.

Truth be told, the servants refilling gladly his glass had not been the only reason to his over intake of wine. First, his agents had use it as a way to communicate him their own progress in the Palace. And then…Well, the Inquisitor was astonishing and he was not the only one to notice it. The stream of nobles wooing her was driving him crazy. Yes, it was a part of the Game and she was playing it as a master. But seeing her laughing, walking at their arms…He wanted to throw an icicle in their throat. The throat of the nobles, not hers. It wasn't half the evening and everyone was talking about the delight she was and he even eavesdropped some discussing the pros and cons of her as a suitable match. He was almost angry against her perfect bard training. At some point, he had encountered Vivienne and had questioned her – at the surprise of the Grand Enchantress, considering their shared scorn, they were never talking to each other if not to argue. He had addressed her the question through gritted teeth. Could the ELVEN Inquisitor be considered as a suitable match? She thought about it several seconds before giving her answer.

"Actually, yes my dear. Her elven origins prevent obviously the Grand Duke from proposing but except for him…It would be a first but with such esteem of the Court…If enough nobles considered her as their equals, her origins can be ignored, especially with the support of the Empress for such alliance. The proposals would have to be examined carefully by the Lady Ambassador later and myself…But we are getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we? We have to stay focus, we need an alive Empress to obtain her approval of any alliance."

Her tone was patronizing on the end but he didn't point out, reluctantly knowing she was right. His personal feelings and concerns had no place here. Vivienne did make an effort however, preventing herself from explaining that, in any case, the position of mistress could be pretty strong if marriage proved not possible.

A handful of glasses later, Varric had crossed path too with the elf and almost startled at his killer eyes.

"Wow, what is it Chuckles?"

"Leave me be, Son of the Stone."

He replied coldly before bottoming up his glass and making a sign to a servant nearby, his eyes still staring somewhere else. The dwarf followed his glance only to find a noble hand-kissing Mahariel.

"Andraste's tits, are you jealous, Chuckles?"

"I am not. Leave. Me. Be." He ignored his denial.

"C'mon, you know her as well as I if not better, and I can tell she just suppressed some rolling eyes."

"Again, I am not jealous." He paused and his nose wrinkled with irritation. "The noblemen are looking at the Herald as they would at a hunting trophy. This is an affront to the whole Inquisition."  _Of course, put it some forms to keep the appearances_. Varric sighed. It was true and the fact was already irritating him as a friend. But it's not like they could do much about it.

"For that I don't have much, considering we cannot kick their asses even if they deserve it."

"I  _can_. I should not, but I  _can_."

"No, you cannot Chuckles, you know what…Er, just keep it to the wine, okay?"

* * *

The servant quarter had been edifying. Mahariel wanted to stop by Solas but the bell rang once more – and he was actually in the Ballroom, but she couldn't know this. Duchess Florianne was waiting for her. She saw a concerned look on Josie's face and smirked.  _So little faith._  She yielded a perfect Orlesian accent.

"M'accorderez-vous cette danse, Votre Grâce ?"  _Would you grant me this dance, your Grace?_

"I'd be delighted."

The women walked on the dancefloor, all eyes laying on them. The music hopefully covered for the most of the audience the sound of shuttered glass in a corner. Varric spun to Solas. Damn, he had crushed it into his fist, likely unintentionally. The only people nearby were Fenris and Hawke who looked at them once they identified the source of the noise. Leliana had left some replacement outfits for them, foresighted as she was, including a formal attire of the Inquisition for Fenris so he could join them in the public areas. Varric waved them discreetly to come closer, watching carefully the elf. Solas wasn't really aware of anything or anyone currently. The dwarf declared quickly in a low voice few steps away from Solas. If he heard him, he was seriously going to be pissed and he didn't need any more reasons.

"You two watch him, Hawke you counter any spell. I'll look for the Seeker, her anti-magic abilities could prove…useful right now." Fenris crossed his arms.

"What is happening to your mage?"

"To make it quick, he is drunk and in love with the woman all nobles are undressing with their eyes." Fenris frowned and turned his sight to the ballroom to witness Varric's statement. He finally nodded.

"I see. Better move quickly then, dwarf." Varric sighed.

"Exactly my thought." Hawke noticed.

"Interesting turn, I wouldn't have thought being on  _this_  side of a no-drunk-magic moment."

Mahariel had her hands full with the dance and the not-so-innocent chitchat. Ergo, she had absolutely no idea of what was happening in the corner of the room.

"The security of the Empire is at stake. Neither one of us wishes to see it fall." The Inquisitor smirked, well-decided to keep the lead of the conversation as of the dance.

"Do we both want that Lady Florianne?"

She let her speak, measuring her words, replying only by questions and half-statements. By the end of the dance, she was certain of one thing: The Duchess was hiding something. And she had to walk head first into a trap. Wonderful.

* * *

Back in some decent outfit, Mahariel walked through the ballroom, chin high, confident smile. Under the surprise of all, she addressed Florianne.

"We owe the Court one last show, your Grace." Florianne's swallow was hardly perceptible.

"Inquisitor."

"The eyes of every noble in the Empire are upon us your Grace. Remember to smile." She paused a bit, enjoying the features of the Duchess dropping under her sarcasm. She resumed in a fake aside. "This is your party. You wouldn't want them to think you had lost control."

"Who would not be delighted to speak with you, Inquisitor?"

Her voice was slightly staggering. Soon, everything was said and Mahariel was looking at the Duchess being taken away by the guards. One last thing to settle then. She suppressed a sight, thinking of the discussion which was now to happen.

Celene, Briala, Gaspard…None of them was to be called innocent. Still, for Thedas' sake, she had to pretend otherwise. No compromise or blackmail could last. She decided to defend Briala and to abandon Gaspard to his fate. She could not abandon her long-time ally despite the mistakes she made…And if Briala could be elevated to nobility, it would be huge for their people. She was not fully comfortable with letting Gaspard fall, though. The man was worthy of respect and she was making of him a scapegoat. But a civil war was never ended as long as both opponents were alive. And even if a man of War was precisely what they needed right now, she had to think of the future as well and she was sure Gaspard would start a War with Ferelden at some point…

After some speeches which sounded way too unicorn-happy-ending to her, the ball resumed.


End file.
